


I mean, it's sort of exciting, isn't it, breaking the rules?

by proud_slasher



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bad Boy Harry, Dreams and Nightmares, Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Flogging, Headmaster Severus Snape, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Era, Jealous Severus Snape, M/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Night Terrors, Other, Post-War, Shameless Smut, Smoking, Smut, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proud_slasher/pseuds/proud_slasher
Summary: The war is over and peace restored. Time for Harry's happy ever after right? Struggling to come to terms with the loss and destruction, and to find a purpose in this new world, he decides he's had enough of being everyone's golden boy and has made up his mind to live a little. Back at Hogwarts for an 8th year and stuck on a slippery slope of self destruction will anyone help curb his unhealthy behaviour before its too late?
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 146
Kudos: 558





	1. Look at me

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a slow burn story, so patience is the key with this one. But we will get there together in the end! Apologies if this story completely sucks as I haven't posted anything in about 8 years, so I know I'm going to be a little rusty. BUT, I'm hoping updates will be regular... ish. No Beta unfortunately, so if anything bugs you enough to tell me, then please do! All feedback is welcomed, even if its actually just to tell me I clearly haven't written in 8 years for a reason. (Which i'm hoping it won't be.)  
> Anyway bare with me, hoping things will improve the more i get in to it. Rated Explicit for later chapters. 
> 
> Anyway thats enough from me. Enjoy! I hope, and let me know what you think.

Ron sat up in the dark, disorientated for just a moment before noticing the noise that had woke him was his best friend thrashing on the camp bed below him. Ron sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, this would be the fourth time this week.

Swinging his legs out from under the covers he contemplated waking him. It sounded like a bad one this time.

Harry had kicked his blankets down and they were tangled around his feet as he flailed about. He whimpered pitifully, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. His eyes were closed in sleep but his lids were flickering rapidly as he jerked his head.

Ron knew better then to ask him what he dreamt about, but it wasn't difficult to guess.

It had been eight weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts, where hundreds had lost their lives before Harry had finally brought down Voldemort and restored peace to the wizarding world.

It was never going to have been easy for any of them. When had they ever had it easy after all. They had all seen too much, and lost too many, but they were trying their best to move on. Ron had finally worked up the courage to tell Hermione how he felt and they were now officially a couple. This had came as a surprise to no one, and with Fred's death still hanging heavy over everyone's heads, this little bit of happiness had reminded the couple that they had created a better world for a reason, and intended to enjoy it.

After the battle, the school had been closed early for rebuilding, and was to reopen that September for a brand new term. The 7th year's would be returning to sit their NEWTS, with Professor Snape remaining as Headmaster thanks to Harry's testimony in the war trials.

Harry had insisted on finding himself somewhere to live while the new term started, but as expected, Mrs Weasley would hear nothing of the sort. So a slightly reluctant Harry had moved into the attic of the Burrow with Ron for the remaining of the summer.

Over the weeks that followed he tried his best to be the boy hero everyone wanted him to be. After the battle, he'd attended weeks of interviews, meetings and Ministry hearings. Listened to detailed accounts of murder and torture in the death eater trials that followed, and played a crucial part in the controversial exoneration of not only Severus Snape but the Malfoys.

But even after the trials had finished and the world started returning to normal, Harry was finding it hard to adjust. He had done what he had been born to do. He had never imagined he would complete this almost impossible task, a task that he had sacrificed his entire child hood for. But he had outweighed all the odds and lived to tell the tale, and now that he had, it was as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself anymore. He had no purpose. Whilst his friends had made plans, shared dreams of becoming aurors or medi-wizards, Harry had just been trying to get through the year one day at a time, and now to realise he had this new life ahead of him, a life where he could do anything he wanted, be anyone he wanted, the thought was overwhelming.

But whilst witches and wizards from every corner of the country bombarded Harry with fan mail and gifts of thanks, Harry found it more and more difficult to keep up the facade. He was invited to a different party every night since turning eighteen in July, and had even had witches and wizards twice his age blatantly proposition him in the street, much to Harry's embarrassment.

There was this expectation that he should be revelling in his fame and success, enjoying his new found freedom. But as much as Harry had prayed for this day, the day where he could finally just enjoy being a teenage wizard, it didn't feel half as satisfying as he had once hoped it would. Maybe he had been forced to grow up too quick. He just couldn't seem to let his mind rest. Couldn't escape the constant guilt and fear, even now.

But as Harry lay on the narrow mattress under the eaves of the burrows attic, it wasn't Fred's face swimming before his closed eyes that woke him dripping in sweat. It wasn't Dumbledore, frail and falling that set his heart thumping, or even the faces of his parents who had haunted his dreams so many times before.

Harry dreamt instead, of imploring black eyes. Eyes as dark as midnight. Eyes normally glittering with malice and anger, now soft and pleading before they lost their light altogether. Then his voice, normally strong and dripping with sarcasm, now weak and begging. Those three words going round and around in a loop in Harry's head as he scrabbled frantically at Snape's neck, trying to stop the blood that flowed between his splayed fingers.

"Look at.. Me. Look at... Me. Look at... Me. LOOK AT... ME!"

Harry woke with a start. He sat up gasping for breath, his grey t-shirt clinging wet and heavy to his back. He brought his hands up in front of his face as though expecting them to still be covered in blood. In seeing nothing but his own pale hands in the moonlight that shone through the window, he laid back down.

"You Okay mate?" asked Ron anxiously.

Harry started at the noise, unaware he was being watched. He took a few large gulps of air before replying, his voice a little shaky.

"Ye..ah. Sorry did I wake you?“

"No, no. Was already awake,“ lied Ron.

Ron laid back down. Both now staring at the ceiling in uncomfortable silence. After a few minutes Harry got up and headed down to the bathroom on the floor below.

It was the same dream every time, and it frustrated Harry to no end. Things between Harry and Snape had without a doubt changed over the years, especially after the war. With the sort of history they had, it was bound to. The things they had witnessed together, the others could scarcely imagine. Then there was the months of occlumency lessons, of Snape rifling carelessly through his head, trampling over his memories and revelling in Harry's embarrassment. The anger in return when Harry had been caught in the Pensive, observing Snape's humiliation. But all of that hadn't mattered in the end. As volatile as their relationship was, they were both on the same side and had both worked tirelessly till the end, and though neither one of them was likely to admit it, somewhere along the way they had developed a mutual respect for one another.

This still didn't explain why he couldn't seem to let what had happened to Snape go. Against all the odds Snape had managed to survive Nagini"s bite, and apart from the slowly fading scar across his throat, he was still the same surly, sarcastic git he had always been.

Harry had viewed Snape's memories that night. Had discovered the shocking truth of his love for his mother, of his betrayal and life of regret. He had learnt of the eternal sacrifices Snape had made, which were not only for the order, but for Harry himself.

After Snape had left the infirmary some days later, Harry had been granted an entire four minute conversation with the man, where under the strongest privacy spells Harry had ever felt, he had been firmly enlightened by his professor that the love he had held for Lily had been purely platonic, and before Harry or anyone else jumped to any preposterous conclusions, Snape was actually only into men, in that way, and then had proceeded to just walk away as though they had been merely discussing the weather.

Harry had opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and proceeded to gape after Snape's retreating form. Snape had taken a few long strides before he had shouted over his shoulder that if he told another living soul what he had just said he would wish Voldemort had killed him after all.

Harry hadnt told a soul. He'd like to say it was from fear of reprisal, but if he was being completely honest with himself it was mostly because Snape had unexpectedly opened up a can of worms for Harry. He'd never thought much about his own sexuality until now. In his defence he'd hardly had the time to think about it between defeating dark Lords and trying to stay alive. He had never met a gay wizard, or at least not knowingly. He supposed people didn't really broadcast these things, especially wizards like Snape. Harry shuddered at the thought. The thought of Snape with a man or a women was enough to make his nauseous. He hoped when Snape had made this admission he was speaking theoretically.

The few brief sexual encounters he'd had with Cho, and then later with Ginny had been ... Nice.

But the more he thought about it, and later when he saw the way Ron and Hermione were with each other, the more he realised that there should be more to a relationship then “Nice“.

There was no spark with either of them. No butterfly's, no excitement. With Ginny he had felt nerves, but looking back that was more to do with the fact he was dating his best friends sister then the thrill of actually being with her.

With Cho it had been more of the expectation rather then the attraction. Ron had been dating Lavender, Hermione had been writing Krum, even Ginny had started seeing Dean, and Harry just thought it was the thing to do. They'd hardly made it past second base before they broke up. After Cedric's death, Cho seemed about as interested in Harry as he was in her, so they'd called it a day.

He'd slept with Ginny twice, both times before the war. It was a battle neither of them thought Harry was coming back from so when he did, there was a lot of awkwardness before they both realised that they wanted the same thing, and agreed to just stay friends. Mrs Weasley had been disappointed at first when she'd heard the news, but she assured Harry he would always be a son to her no matter what.

At least Ginny had held off a while before getting back in the saddle. She'd been caught by her mother not a week later, sneaking out of the burrow to meet Ernie Macmillan who was waiting for her in the Weasley's garden shed. Harry thought they had a word for girls like Ginny in the muggle world, but kept that information to himself.

So everyone was getting some it seemed, except the boy who lived. Who spent his days playing happy families with the Weasley's and his nights dreaming about Professor bloody Snape. He needed to sort himself out and quick!

Harry snapped himself out of his thoughts with cold water from the basin. He caught his reflection in the mirror and was taken aback by the sight he made. His usual messy hair was plastered wet to his dripping head. His eyes were ringed with red and his face was pale. He hardly recognised himself.

Right. Enough was enough! Starting tomorrow he was going to forget about Snape and start living his life. He'd got weeks until September the first and he was intent on making the most of it. He was eighteen, rich and famous, and for the first time in his entire life he was going to make the most of that.

That next morning Harry woke late. The nightmares had not made a reappearance, and Harry felt more rested then he had in a long time. He sat up, stretched, and looked over to Ron's bed to find it empty. Pulling on a clean t-shirt he went downstairs to find Ron and Mr and Mrs Weasley almost finished with breakfast.

"Morning Harry dear" said Mrs Weasley, smoothing down her apron as she stood from the families scrubbed wooden table. "Breakfast?" she asked, bustling into the kitchen.

"Yes please Mrs Weasley," answered Harry running his fingers through his now unruly hair. Sitting down beside Ron he accepted the plate of toast and eggs.

"Did you sleep OK?" asked Mr Weasley frowning at Harry's dishevelled state over the top of the daily prophet.

"Yeah, fine thanks, " Harry replied catching Rons disbelieving glance out of the corner of his eye. "I was thinking of maybe going into London tonight with Dean and Seamus if your up for it Ron." said Harry casually, taking a sip of the coffee Mrs Weasley had just put in front of him. "That's if it's OK with you Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley?"

"How many times must we tell you dear, its Molly and Arthur, and of course its fine with us Harry you're a grown man, we've been trying to encourage you to go out more," said Mrs weasley encouragingly.

"Or go out at all" said Ron quietly.

"Ron will go with you of course won't you Ron?"

"I thought he was a grown man" said Ron around a mouthful of toast. "Why's he need a babysitter then?"

“Ronald..!" scolded his mother.

"I'm only joking mum, cause I'll go. Been meaning to catch up with the boys anyway" he said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let me know what time, yeah?"

"Yeah sure," Harry replied grinning.

Arthur looked at Molly over the top of his newspaper as Harry and Ron climbed the stairs back to the attic.

"Is that such a good idea love," he asked a little worried.

"Probably not Arthur. But it will do him good. Will do them both good, to just go out and enjoy themselves like other boys their age. Harry's struggling Arthur. He doesn't say anything, but I can see it in his face, and Ron's worried for him too. I heard Harry in the bathroom last night and Ron pacing about upstairs."

"I'll dig out the buckets then shall I Molly?" chuckled Arthur.

"Might be best dear," said Mrs Weasley starting to clear the table.


	2. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, thankyou everyone that has taken the time to read and for your Kudos. Its very much appreciated and has spurred me on to finish chapter 2 much sooner then i had anticipated! So without further ado, here it is, Enjoy!

Harry had never been to a wizarding club before. Hell! he'd never even been to a muggle club. The pair had apparated into London, where they'd met Dean, Seamus, Neville, George (who Harry had a sneaking suspicion had been sent by Mrs Weasley to keep an eye on them) and Lee Jordan. 

Harry and Ron had spent the last few hours primping and preening in front of Ron's bedroom mirror. Harry had never much cared for his own appearance. He'd always been on the short side, with hair that never laid flat no matter what he did to it. His glasses, although no longer spellotaped, were hardly attractive. That being said, he wore them more as something to hide behind now rather then the need to actually wear them. A simple spell could have fixed his eyesight if he'd taken the fancy. 

I mean what did one wear to a club anyway?

Robes? Jeans? Suit and tie? Digging through piles of Dudley's old hand me downs and old Hogwarts robes, he settled for the safety of his only pair of decent dark blue jeans and a crisp white shirt (ironed of course by an over eager Molly). 

He'd attempted to tame his hair with a handful of Sleakeazy hair potion he'd found in the Weasley's bathroom cabinet, which claimed two drops could tame the most bothersome of barnets. Scrutinising himself, he thought he'd managed to at least achieve a more sexy swept back look, rather then the dishevelled birds nest he usually sported. "Very nice dear" said the Weasley's bathroom mirror. 

The club they were heading for was called The Ruby Room, and came highly recommended. Harry felt a little nervous as they approached the line of witches and wizards waiting to get inside. Mr Weasley had suggested Harry use polyjuice or an appearance altering spell, but Harry had rejected the ideas immediately. If they were doing this, he was doing it as himself. He'd spent years being kept in the dark, years being Dumbledore's puppet, being told who he could see, what he could do and where he could go. Well not anymore. 

There was a lot of whispering and pointing as they approached the line, which they only had to endure for a few minutes before two large, smartly dressed wizards approached them and ushered them straight inside.

Ron bent to Harrys ear as the music washed over them from the open door. "I could get used to this."

Once inside, the group headed towards one of the many bars. Having only drank on a handful of occasions, and never in a bar, Harry hung back feeling a little out of his depth. George who had got the attention of a barmaid who he seemed to know, shouted over his shoulder. "What's your poison then Harry? First rounds on me!“

Harry looked in alarm at the rows and rows of colourful liquors, fire whisky, brandy's, gins. Barrels of meads and caskets of wines. "Erm... I.." 

Noticing Harrys discomfort he turned back to the bar. "We'll have seven beers please sweet." Fishing his wallet out of his back pocket he added "better do me seven Ogdens as well." 

"Is that Harry Potter?" whispered the barmaid. 

Nodding, George turned around to do the introductions, sweeping his arm out dramatically. 

"Janey, meet Harry, Harry meet Janey."

"Hi Hun," the barmaid replied, flashing Harry a smile before continuing pouring their drinks. 

"Hi" muttered Harry, a little embarrassed at being put on the spot. 

"Well don't worry about introducing us!“ Ron snapped at his brother." Who are we? his fan club?"

"Lighten up guys!" George laughed handing down the drinks. "Let golden balls have his time in the spot light. "

Harry grinned, accepting the drinks, happy to at least have something to do with his hands now. 

He looked around at all the laughing faces, the place was pretty full. It seemed to attract a whole range of people, from students as young as Harry and Ron, to witches and wizards Mr Weasley's age. There were booths placed all along the walls; these were mostly occupied by a large group of questionable looking characters with their hoods pulled low, drinking from large smoking goblets.

In the center of the club was a large wooden dance floor around which was an array of metal gold cages and podiums. Inside of these danced the most beautiful of women, dressed in nothing but lingerie and bright coloured feathers. Alongside these women danced muscled men in tiny shorts, oiled and slick and gyrating in time to the music. Some performed tricks with fire, seeming to swallow burning sticks down whole, before breathing out an inferno of mythical fire creatures which swooped over the heads of those dancing below. Tearing his eyes away from a particular well oiled six pack Harry realised Ron had been trying to talk to him. 

"Sorry, what did you say?“

“I said, we sitting over there, you coming?" 

Ron motioned over to a recently vacated booth which the boys had already started heading for. There was a cloud of green smoke still hovering over the seats which smelt strongly of apples. 

Harry had never felt so out of place as he crossed the busy dance floor, jostling slightly with some rather over enthusiastic dancers who nearly up ended his pint. The music pulsed loudly, and lights flashed in bursts above his head. What could only be described as the wizarding equivalent of a DJ sat in a floating booth beneath the large glass dome which made up the clubs high ceiling. 

"Here they are" teased Lee, laughing at Ron's vacant expression as a group of scantily clad witches walked by. It wasn't just the girls either, it looked as though clothing was optional in these sort of establishments, as two wizards wearing leather and far too many straps danced close to their table. 

"Down the hatch then boys" said Lee, lifting his fire whisky to his lips. "Here's to a good night!" 

"Cheers," came the replying chorus. 

Harry had had fire whisky just once before, one night in Grimmauld Place, with a very drunk and very irresponsible Sirius. Knocking it back in one swig it still took his breath away, only this time the burning in his throat felt soothing and he had thankfully avoided an embarrassing coughing fit like he'd had the first time. Ron on the other hand had not. 

"Man up, little bro." said George sniggering, as Ron tried to catch his breath, red faced and spluttering. "Or do you want me to go ask Janey for a juice?" 

"Very funny" shot Ron, finally able to speak.

Luckily for Ron their attention was soon diverted as a tall blonde women wearing a Ruby Room crop top and daisy dukes approached their table. She had a bottle of purple liquor in each hand with three sickles written on the front. 

"Drink fellas? “ she asked leaning forward on to their table. 

"Go on then." answered Dean eagerly, already reaching into his pocket. "One each."

"Lovely", she replied smiling. Then to everyone's surprise but George and Lee's, who had already picked up their drinks in anticipation, she sat herself down on their table, laid back and proceeded to pour a shot of the purple liquid into her own belly button. 

"Oh, my poor sweet innocent boys!“ laughed George. Clearly enjoying the looks of shock on the others faces. "Bottoms up."

Standing up he leant over, and with the other boys looking on in awe proceeded to lap the alcohol from the girls navel.

"Delicious my dear" said George, smacking his lips as the girl sat up slightly for a refill. "Whose next?“

Neville, who to everyone's knowledge was still yet to even kiss a girl, surprised them all by jumping to his feet and taking it all in his stride. Sitting back down with a big grin on his now red face. 

"Leave some for the rest of us Nev" joked Dean, taking his turn.

They were soon all laughing and jeering as they each took their drink. There was some things that when done made it impossible not to lighten up a situation, and drinking from the belly button of a stranger was definitely one of them. 

Climbing gracefully from the table she tucked the money into her back pocket with a "Thankyou boys." 

Harry sat back in his seat grinning, taking a large swig of beer from his glass. This was what he was talking about. He finally felt like any normal teenager. Drinking, laughing, flirting. Why hadn't he done this before. 

The beer was nice, he'd never really drank for pleasure but this was actually really good. He was onto his third pint and chaser before he'd even realised. Neville and Seamus had done a disappearing act, which Harry had his suspicions had had something to do with the shot girl who'd been around earlier, and George and Lee had gravitated back to the bar where George was trying but failing to chat up the barmaid they had spoken with earlier. 

"So does Hermione know you're out?" asked Harry conversationally as Ron watched a group of giggling girls dancing nearby, they kept waving over at Harry, who kept waving back, much to their delight. 

"Who?" he asked, clearly not listening. 

"Hermione? You know, your girlfriend?“

"Oh, Hermione, erm well, she's away with her parents, so didn't really seem to be much point," he answered, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from a particular provocative gesture one of the girls had just made in their direction. 

"Sure there wasn't" snorted Harry disbelievingly. 

Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, a little unsteady on his feet, just as George and Lee came back over carrying more drinks. 

"Lost cause that one," he muttered, gesturing at the bar before throwing himself down into the booth and scooting over. 

"Think you need to up your game mate" laughed Harry. 

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my game thankyou very much. I'd worry about your own game, or lack of it, if i was you."

"I've got game!" protested Harry, before heading for the bathrooms, "ask your sister!“ 

"Burn!" shouted Dean and Lee, falling about laughing at the looks of disgust on George and Ron's face. 

"Not cool man!" George shouted after Harry's retreating form. 

Emerging back from the toilets and feeling a little bit on the tipsy side, Harry found his path blocked by a wall of bare midriffs and sequined boob tubes. Harry looked up warily, suddenly feeling a little out of his depth without the safety of the others. 

"Hey" he said, sounding a lot more confident then he felt.

The girl directly in front of him tittered, before nudging her friend. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he looked between the three of them expectantly. They seemed around the same age as him, or maybe a little older. It was hard to tell through the thick layers of makeup they all wore. 

Realising they were waiting for him, he opened his mouth, closed it again, then catching a glimpse of Lee and Dean gesticulating wildly behind them to invite them over, jumped in feet first. 

"Do you wanna come get a drink?" he asked a little too quickly, smiling sheepishly. 

"Sure" the blonde replied who seemed to be the voice of the group. Following Harry back to the table.

This was about the last moment Harry really remembered. Everything after this came back to him in random snippets. 

The blonde, who's name had turned out to be Lucy, was currently draped against Harrys side playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. The table was now littered with bottles of opened champagne whilst George and Lee had made a rather large dint in a bottle of Beetle Berry whisky. 

Dean, who'd been sat at the back of the booth was now out of sight, due to the fact that Lucy's quiet brunette friend was currently straddling his lap and initiating far too much grinding to really be appropriate in public. 

"We'll just drink this on our own then shall we?" asked George teasingly, glancing over at the pair. A thumbs up from behind the girls back was the only response given, before his hand disappeared down the back of the girls shorts. 

"You'll have to excuse our friend" laughed Lucy, picking up her glass of champagne and looking up at Harry from beneath her long lashes."She's very open minded." 

"I'll drink to that" said Harry, raising his glass with one hand and brushing his hair back with the other. "To being open minded!“ 

"So why haven't we seen you around before?" she asked, sliding her free hand across Harrys knee. The booth was pretty dark now and Harry had had enough to drink to have stopped really caring. 

"Oh, well.. we normally drink in muggle London. Don't we boys?" Said Harry encouragingly to the others. 

George snorted." Yep. Every weekend."

It turned out Lucy was a few years older then Harry, and after finishing Hogwarts where she'd been in Slytherin of all houses, she'd started working in a wizarding hair dresses next to Twilfitt and Tattings. 

"Not that you need a hairdresser of course" she'd assured, running her fingers back through his hair. He would remember to thank Sleakeazy's hair potions company later. 

Harry had opened his mouth to object; he really could do with a hair cut if he was being honest, when she'd leant down and kissed him. 

Lee and George who'd been discussing this months quidditch fixtures stopped to heckle the pair. Shouting vulgar comments in their direction. 

Ignoring their childish remarks Harry turned his attention back to Lucy. "Do you wanna go dance?" she asked suddenly, lacing her fingers through Harrys. "It'll be fun" she added, noting Harrys reluctance. "You coming Tiff?" 

Tiff, who turned out to be the friend without Dean's tongue down her throat was sat between Ron and Lee. Both of which were currently boring holes in the girls largely proportioned chest while she talked.

"Do you like them?" she asked, looking at Ron expectantly.

Ron turned a fetching shade of pink before stuttering out, "Like them?" 

"My boobs?" she replied casually, as if they were discussing a pair of new shoes. "I had them done last month. Doctor Taylor did such a good job, didn't he Lucy?" 

"Such a good job," she agreed. 

"You wanna see them?" 

"See them?" spluttered Ron. 

"My boobs?"

"Oh.. no.. .no.. Thankyou" answered Ron politely, as though he was turning down a cup of tea. 

"Speak for yourself" interrupted Lee who was shifting excitedly in his seat.

Then before they all knew it, Tiff was pulling down her sparkling boob tube and out they popped. She was definitely right though thought Harry admiringly, Doctor Taylor had done a good job. 

"To Doctor Taylor!" toasted Harry, raising his glass. 

"Has she got her tits out again?" laughed Dean's friend who was helping herself to the last of the Beetle Berry. 

"Oi" Tiff replied, faining outrage as she put them away. "You're only jealous!“

“True" she said, sighing dramatically. "Right, we getting on that dance floor or what."

Lee was giving Dean a disapproving look as he adjusted himself unsubtly through his jeans before getting up. 

"What?" he said in mock offense! “I'm only human dude!"

Harry downed the last of his champagne before following the rest of the group. Neville and Seamus were still yet to be seen, and the dance floor was now packed with writhing bodies.

Before he could even think about how uncomfortable dancing made him, he found Lucy's arms around his neck and a soft body pressed up against him. He'd heard people joke that a drink made them better dancers and Harry found himself agreeing as he let himself move to the music. This wasn't half as bad as he thought it would be. 

To Harrys left, Lee and George were involved in some sort of shirtless dance off with Tiff and the brunette girl, while Dean and Ron who were already looking extremely worst for ware were unwisely buying shots from a Vella dressed in red leather. 

Now Harrys experience when it came to dancing was like his drinking, very limited. He'd danced on just two occasions, the yule ball and Bill and Fleurs wedding. The dancing at both of these had been strictly formal, with partners keeping a respectable distance from each other at all times. The dancing Harry was experiencing now, was anything but. Lucy was shameless in the way she was grinding against him. Shaking her hair back over her shoulders and closing her eyes as she sang along to what she told Harry was her favourite song.

Harry was becoming a little hot under the collar as Lucy leant forward to whisper in his ear, her lips brushing against it as she spoke. "You wanna get out of here?“ 

Harry nodded a little too eagerly as she dragged her lips down his neck sending a thrill down his spine.

"Come on then" she said, taking his hand. But just as Harry had turned to make his excuses to the boys, Tiff started screaming. In front of her Ron was doubled over wretching, having apparently vomited all over Doctor Taylors newest creations. 

Lucy looked at Harry a little disappointedly before rushing to her friends aid and following her somewhat reluctantly to the bathroom. Ron who was laying on the floor half asleep, attempted to fluff George's shoe up like a pillow. 

"Cheers for that Ron!" said Harry, clearly disappointed in the sudden departure of their new friends. 

"Look at the state of him" said George shaking his head, before scooping Ron's gangly limbs off the floor. "Mums going to kill us. Better get him home, sorry about the girl Romeo, better luck next time."

Hesitating for a moment to look hopefully over at the bathrooms Harry took Ron's other arm and helped George haul him out of the club. 

The five of them including Dean and Lee stumbled out onto the street, pulling Ron up as his knees gave out and he tried to sink to the pavement. 

"It's been good guys" said Dean and Lee as they went their separate ways. "Let me know when you're out next."

"Sure" replied Harry, a little preoccupied with keeping his feet out of Ron's vomit. 

"Right sweet cheeks" laughed George looking down at Ron, "Home." 

Being the most sober of the three George sidelong apparated them back to the Burrow, this did nothing for Ron's nausea as he proceeded to chuck up in one of Mr Weasley's wellies that was propped by the back door. The sun was just visible over Stoats Head Hill as they opened the door and traipsed inside. 

The light was still on in the Weasley family's kitchen, which made Harry squint for a moment as his eyes adjusted. Mrs Weasley was sat at the far end of the table in her dressing gown and slippers, nursing a cold cup of tea.

"Oh Ronald" she sighed getting up from the table. "Look at you! I thought you was going to look out for them? she directed at George. "Take him upstairs. There's a bucket on the stairs." 

Harry who was suddenly finding the whole situation really amusing couldn't seem to stop laughing .

"Really, Harry!" scolded Mrs Weasley. "I expected better from you." 

"Sorry Mrs Weasley," he said grinning.

"Oh, out of my sight the pair of you!" chided Mrs Weasley smiling slightly. 

George helped pull off Ron's shoes and vomit covered jacket and got him into bed before heading back down. 

"Night Harry." 

"Night." 

Harry took of his shirt and jeans and got under the covers. He lay smiling, listening to the faint voices of Mrs Weasley and George in the kitchen below before drifting off to sleep. For the first time in what felt like weeks Harry didn't dream. There was no thoughts of the war, and definitely no thoughts of Snape! He finally felt carefree. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

175 miles away in a darkroom in London, a Daily Prophet reporter was currently developing photos late into the morning. Photos of "Harry Potter, Boy Hero turned Playboy". Featuring a four page center spread of a topless Tiff and a particularly eager looking Lucy, all of them surrounded by mountains of empty bottles and glasses.

Harry would soon wish he'd used the polyjuice on offer after all.


	3. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a tad longer this chapter but it is the longest so far so hope that makes up for it. Snape is also going to finally make an appearance so thankyou for your patience, and again thankyou for all the Kudos, means a lot. 
> 
> Also, just want to highlight a trigger warning. There is scenes of attempted rape/non con in this chapter so just bare that in mind lovelys.

Harry woke suddenly, feeling like either his head was being forced open with a chisel, or that Voldemort had returned from the dead and his scar was now trying to kill him. Rolling onto his side he opened one eye, where he saw Ron still in bed, mouth hanging open and snoring loudly. 

He swallowed dryly, his lips sticking to his front teeth. So this was what a hangover felt like. Picking up an empty mug from under Ron's bed he cast a wandless scouring charm before an aguamenti. 

Drinking deeply he sat up, his head spun for a moment as his stomach contents debated loudly weather to stay in his stomach. Thankfully they did.

The sun was shining brightly through the attic window, highlighting the dusk particles that hovered there. Harry could see Ron's white bedroom clock from where he lay, standing out in stark contrast with the bright orange Chudley Cannons wallpaper that still hung there. It was 1pm! Wow, Harry had never slept in this late in his life.

It took him three attempts to stand, but he finally made it down to the bathroom, where after a shower and brushing his teeth he started to feel a little more human. He could hear movement overhead as Ron stumbled about upstairs. Smiling to himself he headed back up to see what state his friend was in. 

He opened the door to find Ron looking up at him from Harry's bed, he'd clearly not got very far in his attempt to get up. "Harry... I...think I'm dying."

Laughing Harry crossed the creaky wooden floor to where Ron was sprawled. "Come on, you'll feel better after a shower, I did." 

"I don't think I can even get up Harry. Why did I drink so much?" whined Ron, rolling onto his side and trying to burrow his head under Harry's pillow. 

"No you don't. Come on, up!“

"Ok mum!“ Ron joked. "Stop your nagging."  
Rolling onto his hands and knees Ron managed to stand with all the grace of a deer on ice. He wobbled a little, put his hand out on the desk to steady himself and took deep breaths of air. Deciding he was ok he proceeded to head over to the open door. 

"Was a cracking night though Harry, wasn't it" grinned Ron. 

"It certainly was" replied Harry, who was in the process of opening the attics tiny hatch window. 

After Ron had gone down the rickety stairs, Harry sat by the open window and looked down at the fields that surrounded the Burrow. It was the height of summer and the sun was high in the sky. It really had been a good night thought Harry reminiscent. Harry had felt carefree for the first time in what felt like forever. Yes he was paying for it now, but it had been worth it. To be able to just forget everything for just one night. 

To feel wanted and desired had been a new thing too. As much as he'd been famous all his life, people had tended to keep their distance, mostly from fear of getting too close and becoming the target of any dark wizards. 

I mean he wasn't stupid, he knew it was likely just the fame and money that had attracted Lucy to him last night but hey, he was young and single, and he was going to make the most of it. 

Heading down stairs Harry could hear voices in the sitting room. 

"Morning" he said a little self consciously as he sat down opposite Mrs Weasley, who was folding laundry with Ginny. 

"It's afternoon dear" she replied a little sharply, not looking up. Ron who had slunk in behind him was currently sat with his head in his hands, still looking a little green around the gills. 

"FEELING A BIT DELICATE RON?" shouted Ginny smiling. 

"For god's sake Gin!" he cried, finally looking up. His eyes were red and blood shot and his forehead glistened with a new sheen of sweat. 

Ginny broke into peals of laughter. "Look at him!" she laughed, catching Harry's eye who was trying but failing to cover his smile with his hand. 

"Ha bloody ha," Ron retorted. "And you can pack it in Harry. It's your fault I'm in this state. Flashing your galleons around, buying everyone bloody champagne."

"Language Ronald!" snapped Mrs Weasley looking up from her folding. 

Ron looked over at his mum pleadingly. "Muuum?" he moaned pointing at his throbbing head. "Have we got anything for this?" 

"I should leave you to suffer, teach you a lesson" she muttered, as she bustled into the kitchen with the folded laundry. She came back a few seconds later with an unlabelled vial which was smoking slightly. "Your great Aunt Muriels recipe this, pepper up, mixed with vitamix potion and a drop of strengthening solution. Should have you feeling better in no time."

She poured a small amount onto a wooden spoon and held it out expectantly. Ron who was scared she might change her mind and take the potion back away opened his mouth obligingly and took his medicine like a good boy. All the while Harry and Ginny sniggered quietly behind Mrs Weasley's back. 

Before they could tease him any more an owl flew in through the open window and dropped some rolled up parchment on the coffee table. 

"That'll be the daily prophet" said Mrs Weasley, putting down the spoon and reaching inside her apron for 5 bronze knuts. Placing them in the patiently waiting owls pouch it flew off with a hoot. 

"Go into the kitchen you two and I'll make you some...." she trailed off suddenly, having just unrolled the paper. Ron, Harry and Ginny all looked up expectantly at Mrs Weasley's sudden pause and blank expression. 

"Mum?“ said Ginny, a little anxiously. Looking between Ron and Harry's puzzled faces when she didn't reply. 

Harry got up from the couch and walked over to the still frozen Mrs Weasley. Following her eye to the headline Harry paled. It read "Harry Potter, Golden Boy turned Playboy." Beneath which was a moving picture of a Topless Tiff and Harry, who was clearly enjoying the view, raising his glass with a drunk Lucy glued to his side. 

"This day just keeps on giving" laughed Ginny, who had gotten up with Ron to see what was going on.

Ron who was also clearly visible in the photo, was dribbling champagne down the front of his shirt as he gaped shamelessly at Tiff's chest. 

"Hermione is going to kill you!" continued Ginny, smacking Ron good naturedly on the back. "Good on you though Harry. Didn't know you had it in you."

Ron sank back on to the sofa in resignation." Honestly boys" said Mrs Weasley disappointedly. "The whole wizarding world are going to see this. What are they going to think?" 

"Oh I dunno mum," interrupted Ginny. "Maybe that Harry deserves to live a little. He's spent his entire life fighting every one elses battles. He was 11 the first time he went up against Voldemort mum, 11! And had a rematch probably every year after. All his class mates; and Rons for that matter, were out sneaking off after dark to meet girls and drink booze, not to sneak down the chamber of bloody secrets. To save my life I might add too."

Harry looked at Ginny appreciatively. Surprised at her having taken their side.

"Hmm" said Mrs Weasley, taken aback a little at Ginnys speech. "That might be true, but everything you boys do will always be made public. You will never be like normal boys, it's just how it is. I just don't want people thinking ill of you both." 

Ginny scoffed. "He's the Chosen One remember mum. He who vanquished the Dark Lord. Our Gryffindor Golden Boy. He could grow his own pair of tits and everyone would still love him."

Mrs Weasley spluttered slightly at Ginny's out burst. Ron and Harry both goggled at her as she walked out of the room. 

Mrs Weasley stalked into the kitchen, throwing the paper back onto the table where it flashed accusingly at Ron and Harry. They looked at each other, both a little ashamed, and yet a little awe struck by Ginny's out burst. 

It took around four hours and a hushed argument with Mr Weasley on his return from work, before Mrs Weasley spoke to Harry and Ron again. She agreed to forget the whole thing, as long as they were more careful on who they associated with in the future. They agreed, over enthusiastically as Mrs Weasley was just serving up dinner at the time. They had both got their appetites back and were ravenous. Harry would have agreed to almost anything right now for a plate of Mrs Weasley's homemade chicken pie. 

"So" said Harry, as they went to bed that night. "When are we going out again?" 

'Bloody hell mate!“ replied Ron, propping his head on his hand to look down at Harry. "I've only just finished bringing up last nights beer, give me a day or two to recover at least". 

Harry laughed before laying down. Glad to finally have something else to think about as he fell asleep.

After that Harry went out drinking three or four nights a week in London. Ron had turned him down every time so far, each with a different excuse. Harry thought it was more likely due to Hermione's howler she had sent the day after the daily prophet article that still laid heavy on Rons mind. They had all been having breakfast when it had arrived, and Ron had tried to make a hasty retreat out of the kitchen before it exploded. 

Harry and Ginny could still hear Hermione's shrill voice through two closed doors. Ron had returned to breakfast a few minutes later red faced and jittery. 

George and Lee had come out with him mostly, and sometimes Dean and Seamus. They had frequented quieter bars after the daily prophet debacle in an attempt to keep things low key. 

It turned out without the presence of his little brother George was a little wild and reckless. He took Harry to all sorts of seedy places, where the drank beers and smoked cigarettes till the early hours. 

Harry had never smoked a cigarette in his life until now. Thinking about it he had never even seen a wizard smoke them before. It seemed to be more of a muggle thing. He'd seen the odd pipe, but never cigarettes. Apparently Lee had picked up the habit a few years ago after a visit with his muggle uncle, and George had started last year after he'd started going out drinking with Lee. 

"Come on" they'd encouraged, trying to tempt him. 

He'd taken the cigarette between two fingers and brought it tentatively to his lips at first, before taking a short breath. He took it back into his lungs as advised, and then let it out slowly. It hadn't made him cough, which surprised him, and after a few more deeper drags he thought he'd got the hang of it.

"There we go, smoking like a pro!“ George had laughed. "Now don't be telling Ron mind, if mum finds out there'll be no living with her." 

Over the next few weeks Harry did almost everything he'd managed to miss out on over the last few years. The boys had labelled it Potters bucket list, which Harry vaguely remembered someone creating a paper version of at some point during the night. 

He'd drunk. He'd smoked. He'd put it about. He'd put it about a lot! And he'd very reluctantly, and with a huge amount of peer pressure, got a tattoo. Harry didn't dare take the bandage off the morning following it, scared of what he would see. But where he was expecting to find perhaps a portrait of George's face, or some expletives, there was actually a pretty tasteful phoenix which moved around his left hip in shades of gold and orange. 

Another less successful attempt at ticking of another goal on his bucket list, and what Harry unfortunately remembered far too much of, was the incident involving Seamus and two twins. Who when their beer goggles had worn off had turned out to be just the one girl. Having both taken her home to Seamus' flat, to endure what would have been undoubtedly an uncomfortably intimate affair anyway, only got worse, when the pair of them in their drunken states were unable to get it up, causing the girl to flee and leave behind a very naked Seamus and equally naked Harry, laying side by side. Understandably they agreed to never speak of this again. 

It was about six weeks after their first night out, and Harry was digging through his open trunk getting ready yet again for another night on the town . He emptied a handful of coins into his pocket and secured his wand in the waistband of his jeans.

"You going out again?" Asked Ron incredulous from his bed, where he lounged on his back reading Harry's copy of Do It Yourself Broom Care . "Don't you think you're maybe over doing it a bit mate?"

Harry, who had been marched into muggle London last week clothes shopping by an overly eager George and Lee was now pulling a low v neck, white t shirt over his head. He looked at Ron through the mirror and shrugged. "I'm fine. I'm having fun Ron remember, for the first time in my life, I'm having fun. No more looking over my shoulder. Trying to please everyone else. I'm looking out for me. I'm pleasing me." 

"I know, I know" said Ron defensively. "I'm not trying to say you don't. You deserve it mate, cause you do. But just, be careful is all. There's still some dodgy folk out there."

"I know Ron. But don't worry I'll be fine."

"So who's coming out tonight then?" asked Ron going back to his book. 

"Oh... Erm, the usual i think. Lee, George and erm Seamus i think too." Replied Harry untruthfully.

"Ah ok" said Ron not looking up. 

This had been a lie, and Harry wasn't sure why he hadn't told the truth. George had the grand reopening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes tomorrow so hadn't taken Harry up on his offer. The same with Lee who was now a director of the company. Seamus had also got plans, though he'd refrained from saying what. Harry had a uncomfortable suspicion that he was avoiding him. 

So new leather jacket slung over one shoulder and wearing his new dragon hide boots he'd headed into London. He had slicked his hair back slightly and replaced his glasses with contacts. He still looked like himself to them that knew him, but he hoped not quite enough that he would be mobbed all night. 

He'd decided to start out the night in one of the quieter bars he'd visited with George and Lee. He grabbed himself a bottle of beer and sat down in a quiet corner. Looking around he took in the people. It was later then they would usually start out and the place was full. 

George and Lee had told him the bar had quite a big gay scene, which was absolutely not the reason he was here. He did have his suspicions about Lee and George, they were both supposedly single, but neither of them had ever shown any interest in anyone, male or female on their many nights out. Sometimes after a few too many drinks, he thought he saw Lee's hand linger a little too long on George's shoulder to be strictly platonic, but maybe Harry was imagining things. 

He had a sneaking suspicion that this was the reason they had brought Harry here. The pair had often asked Harry ambiguous questions about his sexuality which Harry had always refrained from answering. 

Thankfully no one had recognised him as of yet. Harry found that without Ron or Hermione with him people tended to presume he looked a lot like Harry Potter, but obviously not the actual Harry Potter. He preferred this, just being a fly on the wall, being able to sit and just watch the world go by. 

He'd acquired himself a packet of cigarettes from a muggle newsagents on his way into town and went out into the bars small bricked yard to light one up. He loved how the cigarettes made him feel, that inhale and then that little spark of pleasure as he breathed out. It was still warm and hazy outside despite the late hour. He stopped here for about an hour before heading down the street and towards one of the livelier clubs.

It was five sickles to get in. Harry had never been asked to pay this when he had been in before with the others, but the witch taking the money today hardly looked up from her desk as she held our her hand for the coins and stamped his hand. It was unbelievable really, how simply taking his glasses off and slicking back his unruly hair it could let him go unnoticed. He would sometimes catch people looking, but they would look away shaking their heads as though not quite believing it could be him. 

Harry had had a few beers and a few shots by this point, and was starting to feel that heady buzz he loved so much as he watched the crowds dancing around him. He would joke and brag to Ron about his conquests with different girls after his nights out, but when he was drunk and the blood was pumping hard through his body he would find himself checking out men. Watching them. Imagining. There was no taboos about sexuality in the wizarding world it seemed. Men would openly kiss men. Women kissing women. It seemed like anything and everything goes. But for Harry coming from the muggle world he was finding it difficult to come to terms with these thoughts. 

Harry was snapped out of his musings by a man sitting down beside him. He was tall and tanned, with shoulder length blonde hair tucked behind his ears. He had a look of Malfoy about him, which if Harry was truly honest with himself wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just without the pointed sneering face. He smiled as he sat down showing a pair of perfectly straight white teeth.

"Haven't seen you around before handsome" he said, as way of a greeting. "I think I'd remember that face if I did." 

Harry, a little taken aback by being so openly propositioned by a man, took a large swig of beer before answering. 

"Yeah, well I've only just started coming out down here." 

"Well lucky me then" he said.

As he spoke his eyes roamed over Harrys body, smirking slightly as he took in the view. He caught Harry following his eye line and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth." Nice" he said, before taking a drink from his own glass. "You on your own?“ he asked.

"Erm.. Yeah."

"Why don't you come have a drink with us then. What's your name?" 

"Harry. Harry Potter." 

The man's eyes suddenly shot up to Harrys head. "Fuck!“ he said laughing. "Are you really? I didn't recognise you without the glasses dude."

Harry laughed a little self consciously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I try not broadcast it if I can help it. Hard to get any peace otherwise." The man looked a little uncomfortable now. Clearly torn between carrying on his blatant flirting or excusing himself. 

"So, we going to get that drink?“ said Harry, taking strength from the mans sudden nervousness.

“Yeah, course!“ he said a little flustered. "I'm Nicholas, but everyone just calls me Nick" he said, holding out a hand. Harry shook it, the man's fingers lingering a little longer then entirely necessary as he stroked a finger along the inside of his wrist.

So Harry joined Nick and his two friends Brad and Jamie, who all seemed nice enough. They were easily ten years older then Harry but they spent a fun few hours reminiscing about Hogwarts. "Is she still there?" asked Brad "her with the crazy hair and big glasses?" 

"Always smelt of sherry" added Jamie. 

“Trelawney?“ asked Harry laughing. "Oh yes, still there."

"She still predicting everyone's deaths?" 

"Yeah" Harry chuckled. "Some more then others" 

Harry kept on insisting he buy the drinks but Nick wouldn't hear of it. He kept sending his friends to the bar who would come back with trays full of beers and shots. 

Jamie and Brad were a couple, who clearly had no issues with public displays of affection and spent most of the evening draped all over each other. Harry couldn't help but stare. No one else paid them any attention but Harry had never seen two men being so publicly intimate before. There was a moment when Jamie had drank the last fire whisky, and after Brad objected, had proceeded to drink the shot out of Jamie's open mouth. Droplets had run down the corner of his mouth which Brad had lapped up with the flat of his tongue, Harry hadn't known where to look. That wasn't entirely true, he knew exactly where to look, that was the problem. 

Nick watched him smiling. "See something you like Harry?“ he asked, sliding closer on the small sofa."They're shamless them two, and horny as hell!"

Harry hummed in the affirmative, feeling his face heat up a little at being caught staring. 

"Don't be embarrassed sweet" Nick said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "They like being watched."

"So, you got another half then honey?“ Nick asked, draping an arm over Harry's shoulders and running his fingers along his neck. Harry swallowed heavily and licked his suddenly dry lips. 

He was a little too honest under the influence of too many drinks and told him about recently being single and about Ginny and their mutual breakup. Rambling on he told Nick how he was happy to finally be able to live his life his own way and how he was determined to have a good time. 

"Oh, well if that's what you're after, I can definitely show you a good time love" he leered, licking the shell of Harrys ear.

Harry shivered at the sensation. He was a little flattered to have so much attention from a man who was clearly very attractive and could have had his pick. He didn't even seem to be interested in his money like the girls had tended to be. 

"I'm sure you could, " Harry replied huskily, not recognising his own voice. 

The man had slipped a hand onto his knee now, clearly taking Harrys reply as all the signal he needed, and was running little circles on the inside of his thigh. He was telling Harry a story about an escapee hippogriff and his cousin, but Harry was only able to acknowledge a few words, distracted by the warmth spreading through him as Nicks fingers moved higher. He'd never felt like this with Ginny or the girls he'd met in the clubs. He felt giddy and excited. Every touch of those fingers felt like fire sending jolts of electricity to his groin. 

"I'm going out for a smoke" Harry said suddenly, standing up and putting a cigarette between his lips with slightly shaking fingers. He hoped the fresh air would calm his overactive libido before he made a fool of himself." I'll not be long."

He had drank far too much he thought to himself as he leant a little unsteadily against the front wall of the club. He lit the cigarette with a wandless spell and took a deep drag. He let it out through his nose as he rested his head back against the cool brick and closed his eyes. A few seconds later Nick followed him out, looked around for a moment before spotting Harry and heading over. 

"Thought you'd flown away little bird" he joked, crowding Harry back against the wall. 

Nick was easily a foot taller then Harry, broad chested and strong. Harry could do little to resist when he leant down to push a heavy hand though Harry's hair and grasping it firmly, kissed him fervently. 

"Been wanting to do that all night" he mumbled. His tongue now licking at the roof of Harry's mouth. 

The kiss was filthy. All tongue and teeth and the noises he made as he drew a breath were carnal. One of his hands had found its way under Harrys tight white t-shirt and was inching closer to the back of his jeans. Harrys hands still hung loose at his sides, the cigarette had fallen from his fingers and was glowing on the floor below. 

Harry had never really even looked at another bloke till tonight, but found the rough handling and the brush of stubble was sending all his blood rushing to his cock. He was far to drunk to really know what he was agreeing to but he kissed back none the less, trying to keep up with Nicks brutal pace. He sucked on the tongue in his mouth and Nick growled low in his throat and thrust a thigh between Harry's leg, grinding down hard.

"How many blokes have fucked you?“ he asked a little aggressively, as he moved down to Harry's neck leaving large purple bruises in his wake. 

"What?“ replied Harry, distracted by the hard cock rubbing against his through his jeans. 

"I said" accentuated Nick with a particularly hard nip to his collar bone. "How many blokes have you let fuck that tight little arse of yours?“

His hand had finally found its way into Harrys jeans and was squeezing one of his cheeks, the nails of his hand digging into the sensitive skin.

"You're such a fucking tease Potter, you know that right?“ 

Harry tried to object but was cut off by Nick's mouth sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Harry suddenly froze. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying it, he was, oh he really was! It was just all a little too fast. I mean he'd been with plenty of girls over the last few weeks. Had drunken fumbles in dark corners of every club in London. But this was all new.

Nick reached for the button of Harry's jeans and he let out a squeak and tried to step away. The foggy part of his brain didn't want to stop but he knew he would definitely regret this is the morning if he let it go any further. 

He reached around to grab Nick's hand by the wrist, pulling it from the back of his jeans. "Isn't this all just a little bit fast?" he managed to get out, his breathing a little ragged.

"Fast?" laughed Nick. "What you think this is Darling? You need a nice soft bed? You need me to be gentle? You wanna go running back to that witch if that's what you want!" 

Nick tried to return his hand to where it had been, but Harry managed to wriggle free and started to walk away down the street. He thought for a minute about his new leather jacket still in the club but feeling a little uncomfortable he decided he would leave it. He picked up his pace as he walked. He thought this had been what he wanted, but not like this, not up against a wall being treat like some male prostitute. 

Harry was just thinking he was far enough away to apparate home when Nick caught up with him, slamming him hard against the door of a closed shop. 

"You think you can just walk off Potter. Think you can get me all worked up and just leave. You need to finish what you started!"

Too shocked and too drunk to remember his wand that was stuck in his waistband, he tried to push against the solid mass of Nick's chest. His erection had wilted the second he'd fled and he felt panic now in its wake. 

He tried to shout out, but Nick clamped a large hand over his mouth and crushed his body back against the door. He used his other hand to drag Harrys jeans and boxers down and started to unfasten his own zip. Harrys eyes widened as he pulled out his own cock, which if anything was harder for their altercation. 

"Now be a good boy" he mocked, trying to turn Harry around. "and take what i give you!“

Harrys heart beat wildly in his chest, and as a last attempt to get away he bit down hard on the hand over his mouth. Nick jerked his hand away before pulling his bleeding hand back and punching Harry square in the jaw. “You try that again and I'll make you regret it!" he hissed through his bared teeth. 

"Please" Harry begged, trying to inch away. "Please, just let me go and I won't tell anyone about this. I promise." 

Nick laughed a little maniacally before wiping his bleeding hand on his jeans and grabbing a fist full of Harrys shirt. He pushed him down towards the cobbled floor and Harry in his drunken state sprawled forward on his front, his trousers trapping his ankles together. Nick loomed over him, his breath heavy on Harrys neck. He felt nails bite into his hip, then a deep voice shouted "Stupefy" and Harry heard a loud thud behind him. 

He turned over and backed into the doorway, defensive even in his drunken state. Nick was sprawled on his back, his cock still in hand but quickly softening. Harry looked up to see who had cast the spell. 

"Potter? Came a surprised voice as the figure stepped out of the shadows. Harry's vision was blurry, but he would recognise that voice saying his name anywhere. 

"Professor Snape?" he replied a little thickly, trying to pull up his clothes. Snape bent down in an attempt to help him up and Harry thanked him by vomiting all over his shiny black shoes.


	4. The trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this chapter, slight mention of non-con. Hope you enjoy. Keep the Kudos coming to let me know if i should keep going. Enjoy!

Before Harry really knew what was happening he was stumbling over Snape's door step and into his house. Where he was dumped unceremoniously onto a hard leather couch and found himself the recipient of a very strong scouring charm. 

They hadn't spoken since Harry had vomited all over Snape's shoes, and he was finding it hard to meet his gaze. His eyes kept flicking unconsciously up to Snape's neck, where two pale pink scars were still in the process of healing. 

He tried to sit up, feeling very disoriented, when a firm hand pushed him back down. He was shaking and he couldn't seem to stop. He clamped both hands around his forearms in an attempt to stop the shivers, but it was no good. He'd also sobered up a little, which had only made the throbbing in his jaw more prominent.

Snape returned from a door behind the sofa with a bowl and cloth, and sat down beside him. He lifted the cloth surprisingly gently to Harry's face, where he wiped at his split lip causing Harry to wince slightly. 

"Sorry about your shoes" muttered Harry, still looking at his knees. 

"Shoes can be replaced, Mr Potter. Now refrain from speaking, if you can manage that, so i can fix that lip."

"You didn't have to do that you know" said Harry, after Snape had finished clearing away the bowl.

"It was a little murtlap essence, it was nothing."

"I meant what you did back there... with that guy."

Harry could feel Snape's eyes boring into the side of his head before he replied. 

"Any one would have done the same, I was simply in the right place, at the right time. Was he, a friend of yours?" 

"No" laughed Harry half heartedly. "No, definitely not a friend. We only met that night. Seemed a genuine guy. Had a laugh with his mates and.." Harry broke of, struggling to put it into words, especially to Snape of all people. 

"You don't have to tell me." 

"No, its fine. I told him, it was too fast, that I wanted to stop, but he wouldn't listen. He kept telling me I needed to finish what I'd started. Just kept pushing. Christ, I don't even know why I'm telling you this! 

Harry was getting a little flustered as he was relaying his story, so Snape conjured two glasses of water and handed one to Harry. 

"Thanks" he muttered. Before continuing. 

"I mean he was fit, and I mean really fit. And I was just sort of surprised, you know. That he would be interested in someone like....well like me."

"Like you?“ asked Snape, raising one dark eyebrow. 

Harry looked up at Snape for the first time that night, disbelief written all over his face. "I thought you'd be the fist to list my short comings."

Snape pursed his lips as though refraining from doing just that. "Oh, I've got a list as long as my arm Potter. They've just never been shared, to my knowledge, by your adoring fans."

Harry sighed heavily. "You'd think that, but take away the fame and the money and what have I got to offer anyone really?" 

"Spare me the drunken dramatics Potter!  
said Snape, looking nauseated. There was nothing he hated more then self pity. 

"What happened to the Weasley girl?“ asked Snape, feigning interest.

"Yeah, it didn't really work out" said Harry nonchalantly, as he looked around Snape's surprisingly nice front room. 

"Was that before or after you realised you liked cock?“ asked Snape conversationally. 

Harry's head shot round so quick it cracked loudly. The sudden movement made him feel nauseous and he closed his eyes for a second till it passed. 

Harry carried on as if he hadn't heard Snape's comment. 

"Maybe he was right" said Harry, as a particularly violent shudder shook his body. "Maybe I shouldn't have walked out on him. Maybe I should have just given him what he wanted. I mean, I did... I did encourage him. I made it clear I wanted him. I knew what i was getting myself in to. What I was asking for."

"Maybe it would have been what I deserved" he finished in a whisper. 

Snape had remained quiet as Harry spoke, but an anger had been bubbling up inside him which erupted magnificently at Harry's whispered admission. 

Snape's hands were suddenly on Harry's shoulders and he was twisted viciously to face him. "Don't you dare think that what he attempted to do to you was your fault, in any way, shape or form Potter! He took advantage, knowing you were too drunk to fight him off. If I hadn't have been there, if I hadn't..." He faulted, taking back control over himself as Harry sat back, rubbing at his shoulder. 

"Don't" Harry said. "I didn't even try to get to my wand. What does that say about me. I'm supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards of all time" Harry scoffed. "But I couldn't even stop one man."

"You were inebriated, Potter" said Snape exasperated. "And he knew that. I bet he'd been buying your drinks all night hadn't he?"

Harry looked up at him, suddenly feeling foolish. "Yeah."

Harry put his head in his hands. "What were you even doing there anyway?" he said though his fingers. 

"What was I doing outside a club on a Friday night Potter? Do use your imagination."

Harry lowered his hands and sat back. "I didn't really have you down as the partying type." 

"I like a drink" said Snape matter of factly ."And, occasionally, the company of other people. Is that so hard to believe?"

“Yes“ said Harry, a little too honestly. Trying not to think what Snape had meant by the company of other people. 

"I'm grateful for everything, but I really should get going" said Harry suddenly, trying to struggle to his feet. 

"I don't think so Mr Potter, you're not in any fit state to be apparating anywhere" said Snape firmly, standing up with a lot more success then Harry. 

"You'll stay here. No arguments." And with that he pulled a thick wool blanket out from beneath the sofa and threw it at Harry. 

"Perhaps a lesson can be taken from tonight" suggested Snape, back to his lecturing tone. "Maybe be more selective with who you drink with in the future. Everyone likes a drink Mr Potter, no one likes a drunk. Good night." 

Snape left the room with a muttered nox, leaving a soft lamp glowing in the corner.

"Night" replied Harry, a little taken aback. He put down his glass of water at the side of the sofa and toed off his shoes, suddenly feeling exhausted. 

He laid down, pulling the blanket up to his chin and stared at Snape's living room ceiling. Well this was a turn for the books he remembered thinking, before he fell into an uneasy sleep. Maybe he'd been wrong about Snape yet again.

He woke up in a panic. He'd not had this same dream for months now, but seeing Snape again tonight must have brought it all back. He struggled to catch his breath. It felt like his lungs were full of concrete. Every sharp inhale made his head and jaw ache. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. 

"Breath" came a voice to his right. Snape was sat in a wing backed arm chair in front of the now open window, a steaming cup on one arm and a thick black tome on the other. 

Harry tried, he pushed himself up on one arm and found the water from last night, he drank it down in one but still couldn't seem to catch his breath. 

"In... Out.... In.... Out" continued Snape calmly. 

Harry tried again but his breath kept getting stuck on the exhale. 

Snape crossed the gap between the chair and the sofa in three long strides and sank to the floor at Harrys side. "Look at me. " 

Harrys eyes snapped up to Snape's and in that moment they were both back in the boat house. Snape could only describe it as involuntary legilimency. One moment he was looking into Harry's glassy green eyes, then the next he was inside his head. There was none of the normal prodding and probing used to navigate the many layers of someone's mind. It was sudden and forceful, and Snape didn't believe he could have stopped himself from seeing it even if he had tried. The moment their eyes had connected he had been pulled in with a powerful force.

He saw himself laid before a frantically panicking Harry, saw the fear on his face as he tried to stop Severus from bleeding out. He heard clearly in the quiet that engulfed them, the sound of water slapping gently against rock ,before his own voice spoke "Look at me". And then he watched as the light from his own eyes went out and his head slumped forward onto his blood soaked chest.

Then, as suddenly as he had been dragged into Potter's head he was expelled. He sat back hard onto the carpet and looked up at Harry who had managed to slow his breathing and was now doing everything in his power to look anywhere but at Snape. 

"You relive that moment, in your dreams?“ asked Snape, standing straight and brushing imaginary dust off his black trousers. 

"Sometimes" mumbled Harry breathlessly, pushing the blanket off himself and sitting upright. "I have different dreams too" he said defensively, and by doing so confirming Snape's suspicion it was the only one. 

He looked guilty, like Snape had caught him doing something he shouldn't. 

"I didn't mean for that to happen Potter" said Snape, with a surprising amount of sincerity. 

"You've never been particularly mindful of my memories before" replied Harry, a little scornfully. 

Harry saw a flash of regret flitter across Snape's face, before his usual stern demeanour fell firmly back in place. 

He felt foolish for all the heartfelt things he'd said to Snape last night. "Professor, you're not going to say anything to anyone about last night are you?" 

"Your a grown man. What you decide to do is your choice. But no, what happened was between me and you."

"Good" said Harry standing up. "I'll be going then. Erm thanks...for, you know." He gestured at the sofa as he said this, suddenly feeling the awkwardness of spending the night on a professors couch. 

"Just try keep out of trouble if you can manage it Potter. It will soon be the start of term, perhaps you can lay off the drunken escapades till then." 

"Now get the fuck out of my house" he said with a smirk, managing to ease a little of the tension that had formed. 

Snape watched him walk down the front path, before dissaparating at the other side of the garden gate. He remained on the doorstep a while staring at the spot where Harry had just vanished. His behaviour last night had seemed reckless, even for Potter. Where had his faithful little fan club been, and when had Potter started drinking and picking up blokes in clubs. 

There was obviously no love lost between the two of them, but as much as Snape hated the brat he couldn't seem to give up the habit of a lifetime and stop looking out for him. The boy, no the man Snape corrected himself, looked different. There was something about him, he seemed much more confident in himself but there was a despair and a darkness that Snape had seen so many times before. This self destructive behaviour was uncomfortably familiar.

Back at the Burrow Harry was getting the spanish inquisition. Not only from a concerned Mr and Mrs Weasley but from Ron too. 

"Here he is!" Ron had shouted upstairs as Harry had walked through the door "Cancel the search party! Doing the walk of shame in last nights clothes as well" teased Ron, as Harry tried to make a beeline for the stairs. 

"Harry, you had us all so worried!" fussed Mrs Weasley as she came down the stairs, her face hidden behind an overflowing wash basket. She put it down and gasped upon seeing Harrys bruised face, rushing over to Harrys side. "What happened to your face?" 

"Oh that" said Harry, suddenly wishing he'd remembered a glamour. "I had a bit of an altercation with the pavement" lied Harry, bringing a hand to his swollen face, "It won" he finished lamely. 

"Hmm, " said Mrs Weasley disbelievingly. 

"What really happened then?" asked Ron, as he followed Harry up to the attic. 

"Nothing. I had a bit too much to drink and ended up staying at Seamus' is all. You can ask him if you don't believe me."

"He talking to you again then?" asked Ron. 

"Yeah" replied Harry. "Was just a misunderstanding was all."

It was the weekend before the start of term and against the advise of Ron, Mrs Weasley and the voice in his own head he was back in a bar, on his own, with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. 

It was the only thing that broke through the numbness of Harry's exsistence. Ron and the other Weasley's had reluctantly come to terms with Harrys night time gallivants, and no longer questioned him when he came home at 3am, or didn't come home at all. 

He wasn't stupid, he knew what was so close to having happened that night, if Snape hadn't saved his skin for what must have been the thousandth time. But somehow, in Harrys sick twisted mind, he'd enjoyed the danger. The thrill of the chase. And now he welcomed a fight, he'd be ready this time. 

"Anyone sat here?" asked a rough voice to Harrys left. Harry turned around and saw a man in his forties, with dark hair, flecked with grey and wearing a smart fitted suit. He had a glass of scotch in one hand, an expensive gold watch flashing out from beneath the diamond cuff off his shirt.

Harry looked up from the bar where he'd been studying a beer mat. "There is now" he said smiling. 

The man slid onto the stool beside him, he had an elegance to him and moved with grace. 

"I hope you don't find me too forward." the man said, swirling the ice in his glass with one finely manicured hand "I've been watching you since you came in. You look troubled."

Harry put a hand over the man's, stilling it in its movement. "I'm 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 troubled" said Harry, eyes flicking down to the strangers mouth and back up to his eyes, "do you think you could help me with that?" 

Harry had soon learnt that seducing men was easy. There was none of the nerves and awkwardness he'd had with women. With men he was assertive, and they liked that. It was less about what he said and more about what he did, and that seemed to work out just fine. 

On this occasion it took just four glasses of Moet before Harry found himself willingly spread across the bonnet of the strangers Bentley, which was parked down a side street, chauffeur still sat in the driving seat. 

The gentleman's good manners all but disappeared as Harry spread his legs and unbuttoned his jeans. 

"Fuck me, would you look at that" he said, laughing breathily. 

"Less looking, more doing" beckoned Harry, adjusting himself through his open fly. 

"With pleasure." 

In one stride he was on him, and shit it was true what they said about older men, he 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 knew what he was doing. His mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, just the right amount of teeth and tongue as he mouthed at Harry's throat and neck. The warmth of the body above him in contrast with the cold of the metal below made his skin tingle and his blood surge all the hotter. 

Then a hand found its way inside Harry's boxers and his head hit the windscreen with a thud. "Oh god.. that's good!" moaned Harry, as he took him firmly in hand. Harry thrust up hard, feet flat against the cars bumper.

"Easy tiger" laughed the man, before bringing his mouth down on Harry's. His kiss was thorough and left Harry trembling, and when he pulled his hand out, licked a long stripe down his palm and went back to his ministrations Harry had to bite his lip to stop himself crying out. 

"Let me fuck you?" begged the stranger, pulling away slightly to look down at Harry, who was dishevelled and panting. 

Harrys drunken brain hesitated for a moment before deciding. 

He slid under the mans arm and landed heavy on his feet, before pulling his jeans around his ankles with a little more confidence then he felt, and bracing his torso on the bonnet. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at the stranger who was now stood behind Harry, mouth agape. 

"I'm not going to fuck myself" Harry said, raising his hips in invitation. He hardly recognised the assertion in his own voice when he'd had a drink. 

He turned back around, shivering slightly as he heard the tinkle of the mans belt buckle and the slide of the zipper. He heard him mutter a lubrication charm and felt the bizarre sensation of being slicked from the inside. A pair of warm hands were on his hips and Harry lifted his head and made awkward eye contact with the chauffer for a moment, who still sat statue still, cap on head. 

Fuck it, thought Harry grinning at him.

He took a deep breath, pressing his forehead against the cool metal, and waited.. and waited. Turning around he looked anxiously for the man he was expecting to impale him with his cock, to find he was looking at thin air. 

"Jesus" hissed Harry, scrabbling frantically to pull up his trousers. Where the fuck had he gone? He looked towards the chauffeur who now appeared to be asleep, turning back around he found himself face to face with the one person he really did not want to see right now. 

"You have got to be kidding me!" shouted Harry, as Snape stepped out of the shadows, the stranger now visible, laid at his feet. 

"What's your fucking problem. Have you been following me?" spluttered Harry. "What did you do to him?" 

"Nothing he won't recover from" said Snape, idly lifting the man's arm with a pointed boot and flipping it onto his chest. 

"He was old enough to be your father Potter, have you no respect?" 

"I think he quite liked the idea" laughed Harry, suddenly finding the situation funny. 

"But seriously Snape, this cock blocking has got to stop. Stop with the interfering. Did I look like I was putting up a fight?" smirked Harry, leaning back against the car. "I wanted him to fuck me. Do you not get that?" 

“You don't know what you want Mr Potter. You're drunk. Again ! And don't speak to me like that. Remember, I'm still your headmaster."

"Oh, I'm sorry Headmaster, Sir," leered Harry in mock earnest. He spread his legs and stroked a hand across his jean clad crotch, the button and zipper still undone, all the while keeping eye contact. "Were you hoping to get in there first, Sir?" he asked suggestively. 

"Shut your filthy mouth Potter!" growled Snape. "I was trying to look out for you, you insufferable brat! Your reckless behaviour was unsettling. I was, concerned at the path this behaviour was taking you down, and I was right. But don't worry It's the last time I try to protect your useless hide!"

"I don't need your help! I didn't ask for it!" snapped Harry, sliding off the car and heading down the street. Harry heard the click of Snape's heels and knew he was following him. 

"I had everything under control then, like i did now!"

"Oh of course, silly me!" hissed Snape through his teeth."Laying in the gutter with your arse in the air, was just part of the plan was it?" Snapped Snape a little harshly. 

"This time was different. I wanted it. I wanted him to."

"Have you heard yourself Potter. You were bent over a car bonnet for gods sake. Displaying your self, like some cheap whore. Or maybe that was your plan all along" sneered Snape." How much is your going rate?" 

Harry scoffed and kept walking. He pulled his packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up, earning himself another disapproving glare. 

"I feel alive! For the first time in my fucking life Snape. I feel alive."

"If this is what you need to feel alive Potter, you need help. Fucking strangers in the street, while the hired help watches you! Do you have any morals, any principles?" 

"What's the matter Snape, scared some big bad man is going to hurt the golden boy" mocked Harry. "Your watch is over. It doesn't matter any more. I'm already damaged goods, what harm is a little more."

Snape grabbed his arm and spun him to face him. "You... you wanted him to hurt you, didn't you?" said Snape, struggling to get the words out, his voice suddenly deflated. 

"So what if I did" shrugged Harry, the anger now gone from his voice. "Pain is all I have left of me" he said, pulling out of Snape's grasp. 

"Don't you understand?" he said, stopping to look at Snape. "This isn't my life I'm living, so it doesn't matter, none of it matters! I was supposed to be dead" he uttered, his eyes suddenly shining with unshed tears. "I was supposed to die."

Harry then turned and apparated on the spot, leaving behind a speechless Snape, staring yet again at a blank slab of concrete.


	5. It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well i wasn't expecting to upload chapter 5 just 2 days after chapter 4 but all the positive feed back got me in the mood for writing so thankyou! Some angsty goodness in this chapter along with some more naughty Harry. Sooo enjoy!

"Can you believe we're actually going back" said Hermione happily, as they sat in their old compartment on the Hogwarts Express. 

Ron was standing on look out, while Harry hung out of the sliding window smoking a cigarette. They might all be of age now but they were still expected to abide by Hogwarts' many rules. 

"It almost doesn't feel real does it" said Ron, a little sadly. "You almost done there Harry, I can see Remus coming down."

"I don't know why you even started that disgusting habit Harry" tutted Hermione, watching as Harry flicked the still glowing tip out of the window and sat back down. 

"I think it's pretty cool" said Ron, slouching into the seat next to Hermione. 

"Don't you be getting any ideas Ronald!" Hermione scolded. "And while we're on the topic, what's this I heard about a tattoo? Please tell me Ginny was joking."

Ron sniggered, happy once again for Harry to be the focus of Hermione's anger. 

"Well, erm... I" said Harry, avoiding Hermione's glare. "It's just a very small, hardly noticeable really. Miniscule actually."

"Show me!" she demanded, just as Professor Lupin slid open their door. 

"What are we looking at? “said Remus cheerily. 

“Harry's tattoo" said Ron smugly. 

"Git" Harry hissed. 

"Tattoo hmm" said Remus, stepping into the compartment and closing the door. "Can't say your parents would have particularly approved Harry, but I know someone who definitely would have" he added grinning. 

"Sirius?" said Harry. 

"Yes, Sirius," smiled Remus. He would probably have taken you himself. So, come on then, lets have a look."

"Oh, ok" said Harry a little taken aback. He stood up and pulled his shirt up to his chest, pushing his jeans lower on his hips. The phoenix came to life in a flash of flame as it twisted and turned across Harry's hip.

"Positively microscopic" chastised Hermione, with little actual anger in her voice. 

Starting to feel a little self conscious Harry moved to drop his shirt before a sharp rap sounded on the glass. Draco Malfoy, shadowed by Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were gathered outside the door. 

"Didn't think they'd have the nerve to come back" whispered Ron. 

Malfoy smirked, reaching for the handle and flinging the door open with his usual gusto. Clearly being outed as a death eater had done nothing to curb his love for the dramatic. 

"Professor" he said in greeting, with a nod of his head. "Weasley. Granger." His eyes moved over to Harry who was still clutching his shirt to his chin, jeans now hanging precariously low on his hips. 

Harry had filled out a little over the last year, thanks to months trekking over the countryside with little to eat. He'd always been trim, but was now less scrawny and more athletic. Over the summer, inbetween drinking and sleeping he'd spent hours labouring in the gardens with the Weasley's under the hot summer sun. Coupled with the hours of Quidditch he'd played with Ron he'd developed flat abs and some half decent pecs. 

Draco dragged his eyes down Harrys tanned torso. "Not bad " he said, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. He turned to leave, calling over his shoulder as Pansy and Blaise trailed after him. "Trashy tattoo though Potter." 

Ron looked at Hermione, and then at Harry, who dropped his shirt like it was on fire. "Well that was.."

"Weird." finished Ron. 

"Yeah" said Harry, the tips of his ears burning a little. "Like he can talk about tattoos" he added, a little miffed. 

"Well," said Remus cleaning his throat and following Draco out into the corridor, "I'll see you up at the school. I'm looking forward to teaching my three favourite pupils again."

After Remus had left, the rest of their journey to Hogwarts was relatively undisturbed. Ginny and Luna visited for a while, and Neville and Dean popped in to say hello while Seamus stood awkwardly outside. 

"I thought you two were talking now" whispered Ron, as Seamus kept glancing in at them and looking away. 

"Yeah, we are" said Harry, disbelievingly. 

In no time at all they were in the carriages and trundling up the well trodden path to the school, Harry wondering a little morbidly how many people were able to see the thestrals this year. 

"So what do you think to Snape still being headmaster then" asked Ron, as they turned a corner and got their first view of the castle. "Think he'll still give us hell?" 

"Without a doubt" said Harry firmly, agreeing with Ron for different reasons altogether. 

"I think, after all we've been though together, he may just surprise us" said Hermione. "You did defend him in the trials remember Harry. You must think him changed a little at least."

"Always the optimist Hermione" said Ron. "He might not be a death eater anymore, but that doesn't stop him from being a git."

"True, " said Hermione laughing. "I just can't believe it's the same place we left in May" her face dropping a little as she looked out over the freshly cut lawns ."You'd think nothing had happened here at all." 

"You ok mate?" asked Ron, who had suddenly realised Harry had gone very quiet.

He was staring over at the courtyard, his face a little pale. "If this is all too soon for you Harry, people will understand" said Hermione, putting a hand over his. 

"I'm fine" he answered, his voice a little strained. "I'll be fine, honestly, nothing some treacle tart can't sort out."

Ron seemed happy with Harry's answer, and they spent the remainder of the journey discussing what they were going to eat at the feast first. 

The Great Hall was back the way it should be, echoing with the raucous chatter and laughter of students as they piled in to sit around their tables. The eighth years would be back in their old dormitories, whilst the first years had been built new ones during the renovations. As they made their way to their usual end of the Gryffindor table the empty chairs did not go unnoticed. 

Professor McGonagall said a few words before the sorting ceremony began. She paid tribute to the fallen, by unveiling a memorial plaque behind the staff table, which listed the name of every student and teacher that had fallen in the battle. 

Snape then made the customary headmasters speech, which Harry had to admit was surprisingly compelling. He held the halls attention as well as Dumbledore ever did, and seemed genuinely suprised at the round of applause that followed it.

Then came the welcome feast, which was better than they remembered, but Harry soon found he had no appetite. He excused himself from the table to use the restroom, feeling a dark gaze on his back the whole way out of the hall. He walked straight down the front steps and out into the evening air, leaning back against a stone pillar he took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. 

He hadn't expected it to be this hard coming back. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, and in some ways it was comforting to be back on familiar ground. Back to the one place he could call home. But it didn't make it any easier, when he remembered what had been lost here. All the death and the destruction. 

He walked over to the courtyard, where like the rest of the castle, every brick had been put back perfectly in its place. This had been the spot, the spot where Voldemort had looked into Harry's eyes and taken his last breath. The spot where Harry had fulfilled the prophecy. One had lived, one had survived. 

He jumped into one of the empty window frames and sat down, digging in his robes for his cigarettes. He lit one, taking several long drags, one after the other.

Someone cleared their throat directly behind him, causing him to drop the cigarette in his lap. Spinning around he found Snape leaning against the frame beside him, a slight smirk on his lips. 

"Fucking hell Snape!" exclaimed Harry brushing the ash off his cloak. "You really need to wear a bell round your neck or something."

"Language Potter!" 

Harry scowled at him in response. 

"The welcome feast is still in progress Mr Potter. The entire school is mourning its hero" Snape sneered. 

"Let them" said Harry, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. "Let them gawp at someone else."

"There is to be no smoking on Hogwarts grounds." Snape instructed. "And it goes without saying that applys to alcohol too." 

"Noted" said Harry dully, putting the packet back in his pocket. "Anything else?"

Snape exhaled through his nose in an attempt to keep his calm. 

"The same goes for any, extra.. curricular .. activities you might be tempted to indulge in. That being said, I suppose they would all be a little on the, young side, for your tastes Mr Potter."

"Funny." said Harry, with no hint of amusement in his voice. 

Snape could cope with an angry, shouting Potter. He'd had years of practise. He knew just which buttons to press to get just the right reaction. He could force Potter into a rage in mere seconds, and took comfort in the familiarity of spitting insults and biting remarks. 

He had no idea how to deal with this self pitting Potter, who still seemed to blame himself for everything. It was times like this he wished Dumbledore was still here, he would know what to do, he would understand. 

"This is where it happened" said Harry suddenly. His voice a little stronger. 

"Where it, happened?" 

"Where I killed him. Where I killed Voldemort."

Snape flinched slightly at the sound of his name. Opened his mouth to chastise the use of it, before remembering there was little need anymore. 

"You made a great sacrifice that night Potter." said Snape, suddenly serious. "The full events of that night will never be truly understood, by anyone but yourself, but that doesn't mean people don't want to understand. You can let people in."

Harry was taken aback for a moment by the earnestness of Snape's words. He hesitated as Snape's gaze met his, and for a moment he wanted nothing more then to tell him everything. To tell him how a part of him wished he had died that night. How the guilt of every single person who had died, ate at him from the inside constantly. How the drinking, and the sleeping around, were all just a distraction from the agony of his anguished mind. 

Snape could see the torment on his face, the desperation, the doubt. 

Green eyes full of sorrow looked away. "I just, can't. " 

The first few weeks of term passed in a blur. If the eighth years thought their final year would be easy, they were very wrong. Most of them had missed the previous year entirely, and those that hadn't had spent the majority of their lessons being taught the dark arts or being indoctrinated on muggle inferiority and pure blood supremacy. 

"So what we got today?" said Ron around a mouthful of breakfast. 

"Double Potions first" replied Hermione, with far too much enthusiasm for someone about to spend three hours with Snape. "Then I've got Ancient Ruins, and you two have... Divination" She answered, looking down an extensive list she had propped against the milk jug. 

"Why do you have a copy of our timetables, when we don't even know them." said Ron suprised. 

"For that exact reason Ronald" she said, sighing in exasperation. 

They were almost late to Potions, Harry managed to leave his book bag under the table, then they got all the way down to the dungeons before Ron remembered he'd left his wand standing in the bowl of apples.

Everyone had gone inside by the time they ran panting through the open door. Snape had returned to his usual classroom and seemed to be in his element. It was unusual for a headmaster to continue to teach, but not unheard of, though they suspected it was Snape's love of terrorising students, rather then his passion for teaching which had made him return to his profession. 

"Finally decided to join us" came Snapes drawl from the front of the silent classroom. "I suppose you were too busy signing autographs and answering fan mail to bother being on time to my lesson." 

Hermione opened her mouth to argue that the bell hadn't even rang yet, but thought better of it. 

Harry on the other hand did not. 

"We were two minutes early!" snapped Harry. He'd been up half the night, and really wasn't in the mood for Snape's petty snides. 

"10 points from Griffindor for your insulance Potter!" 

"Leave it" hissed Ron, as he slid into his seat and tried to hide behind his bag. 

"Insolance?" Scoffed Harry. "Not agreeing with you, when your wrong, is insolance?" 

“Care to make it 20 points? If your not happy, take it up with the headmaster Mr Potter" smirked Snape, showing his canine teeth. "And you will address me by my title in this classroom."

"Oh I intend to take it up with him, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘪𝘳" mocked Harry, smiling broadly. 

"He's going to get himself killed" muttered Ron to Hermione, who were both trying their best to make themselves invisible.

Snape on the other hand had gone suddenly quiet, remembering the last time Harry had addressed him in this manner. 

Snape could tell by the smug look on Harrys face he remembered it too. 

"Potter, my office now!" he roared, already walking towards the adjoining door. 

It took Harry exactly eleven seconds to saunter into Snape's office, which Snape knew, as he'd counted. The second he walked through the door it crashed shut behind him and Snape grabbed a fistful of Harry's robes, and with a growl, slammed him against it. Harry's smirk never leaving his face. 

"I don't know what game you're trying to play with me Potter, but it stops now!" His face was mere inches from Harry's, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he spoke.

"What's got you all hot under the collar, 𝘴𝘪𝘳?" teased Harry, not threatened at all by the hand inching closer to his neck. 

"Stop playing the innocent, it doesn't suit you! You know full well what your trying to pull, and it won't work on me!"

"I have no idea what you mean, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳" purred Harry, eyes shining with mirth. As he spoke he brought his arms up above his head and leant the full length of his body against the door. 

Snapes blood had started to pound hot and heavy through his veins. Harry was getting under his skin, and he knew it. He couldn't deny that Potter was attractive. It was a fact. But it was also a fact that he was a student, and a vulnerable, troubled student at that, who was only playing with Severus so he wouldn't have to acknowledge what was really going on in his head. 

"Are you going to punish me?" he said, pushing against the hand at his neck. "I do deserve to be punished sir".

Snape stepped back as though he'd been burnt, a shock of arousal surging down his body at Harry's words, going straight to his cock. This was wrong, all of it so wrong. This was over stepping the mark on so many levels. 

"If you think you can tempt me with that scrawny skeleton you call a body Potter, in some sad bid to make yourself feel better, you're gravely mistaken. You could be the last man on earth and I'd still rather stick my dick in a flobber worm, then you. So for the both of our sakes, put a stop to this frankly, embarrassing facade and get back to your desk."

Well that had definitely wiped the smug smile off his face thought Snape with glee. 

"Oh and Potter, detention tonight 8 o'clock."

Harry had returned to his desk dejected, and hadn't spoken again for the remainder of the lesson. 

Maybe he'd been a little harsher then he'd intended thought Snape later that day. But his body betraying him like that had put him on the defensive, and lashing out was better than accepting the truth.

When Harry showed up that evening for his detention he was an entirely different person. Gone was the swaggering, self confident catamite from Snape's office and in its place slunk in a shadow of his former self. 

Perhaps Snape had hit a nerve after all. 

"Professor" said Harry softly, as he knocked and entered his office at 7:55pm. Gone was the suggestive tone he'd used earlier when using his title. 

"Mr Potter, I hope there will be no repeat of earlier." 

"No sir" he said earnestly. 

Snape could smell cigarette smoke on him as he approached the desk, but decided not to mention it. Harry looked around for an indication of how he would be spending his detention, looking up at Snape when he saw neither dirty cauldrons or animals waiting to be disembowelled. 

"Sit" said Snape, gesturing towards the empty chair in front of his desk. Harry sat, his hands feeling heavy and awkward in his lap. 

"Now I'm going to speak, and you're going to listen Potter. After I've done, you can speak, or you can sit in silence for the rest of your detention. Is that clear."

"Crystal" said Harry, a little taken aback. 

"Now I know what you're going through" started Snape, raising a hand as Harry's head lifted, looking as though he wanted to object. 

"You feel responsible. Every waking hour, you're consumed by crippling guilt. You could cope before, as there was one certainty at the end of it all. Your death. You took comfort in that knowledge, you welcomed it."

Harrys breath caught in his throat as he listened to Snape speak. Swallowing thickly, unable to look away. Never had he seen so much compassion, so much understanding in those unfathomable eyes. 

"But you didn't die did you. And now, you don't know what to do with yourself. Stuck forever in limbo. While everyone moves on, you're trapped in your past. Desperate to forget, but equally desperate to remember."

Harry's hands were now balled into fists, his nails digging painful into his palms, but he didn't interrupt. 

"Life has been cruel and unkind Potter, it asked for too much from you, it took too much. You feel like you don't deserve to be happy. As though to be happy would tarnish the memory of all those people who died. You want to suffer. To suffer like they did. To feel the pain they did. But it won't help. Your torment won't bring them back. You need to learn to live with it. You saved the entire wizarding world; now it's time to save yourself."

Silent tears were running down Harry's face, which he wiped away quickly on the sleeve of his robe. He looked up at Snape, his eyelashes heavy with unshed tears, his face now an open book. 

"How.... ?" Harry managed, his voice cracking. "How could you possibly know that."

Snape paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "You weren't the only one who was supposed to die."


	6. Of course it's happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it isn't real?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i'm trying not to let you guys down, so here we are with chapter 6. I did warn you it would be a slow burn and it sure is, but I'm hoping to kick things up a notch in the next chapter. No warnings really for this chapter just plenty more feels and some jealous Snape. Enjoy. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Harry believed that things couldn't possibly be more uncomfortable between Snape and himself then the twice he had caught him with his trousers down, but he was wrong. His detention had left an awkwardness which hung thick and heavy between then in the days to come. 

He thought, it was all anyone wanted in life, to be understood, right. To be truly, understood. He just wasn't quite sure how he felt about Snape being the one to do that. After Snape's admission he had dismissed Harry immediately. It was clear he hadn’t intended to say what he had, and was now regretting opening up. It seemed Snape was comfortable addressing Harry’s emotions, just not his own. 

Harry had returned to the Gryffindor tower, overwrought and confused. Thankfully the common room was almost empty, and he headed straight for the dorm. The hangings around Ron's bed were still ajar, he must be out somewhere with Hermione, thought Harry. 

He cast a silencing spell as he pulled the curtains closed around his own four poster. He threw himself down, pushed his face into his pillow, and he cried. 

Not the silent tears that he'd allowed to escape in Snape’s office, but loud, desperate sobs, that wracked his body. He couldn't remember ever crying like this in his life, even when Sirius had fallen through the veil. Not even when Dumbledore had died, or when the battle was finally won.

But hearing Snape speak those words, words that could have been coming from his own mouth. So close to the mark it was scary. Forcing him to acknowledge those thoughts and feelings he'd pushed so far down he'd almost forgotten about. 

He couldn't breath, his chest constricted as he continued to weep. Once he'd started, he found he couldn't seem to stop. In this moment, it was as though everything he'd bottled up and refused to deal with in his entire life had come flooding out. He felt on the verge of hysteria. 

Then there was the uncomfortable realisation that Snape had dealt, or was maybe still dealing with the same feelings. It was easy at times to forget what Snape had been through. Maybe leaving him to die would have been kinder. Maybe, as Snape walked the halls of Hogwarts, a constant reminder of all he'd done, he, like Harry, had wished he'd never woken up at all.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, as the next thing he remembered was waking to the sound of Ron's snores and the room in total darkness. He sat up, his face stiff with dried tears. He felt strangely better. Maybe it had done him good to finally let it all out. Acknowledge some of what was going on his head. 

What did Snape know anyway, Harry thought a little bitterly. What did he think he was going to do now, sit down for regular sessions. All talk about their feelings over a cup of tea. He might have now accepted he was a little messed up, but he was more then happy not addressing it. 

He needed something to take his mind of it, that was all. Maybe one of the many distractions he'd discovered over the last few months. He'd not had a drop of alcohol since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, but had brought several bottles of good whisky and had the address for a good owl order mail service, whom had assured Harry they would keep him adequately supplied if the need arose. Yes, he just needed a drink. That usually did the trick when he couldn't seem to switch his brain off. 

He shook off his robe which he had fallen asleep in and pulled a hoody over his crumpled school shirt. It felt a little strange wearing a uniform again after so long, especially at his age, but it had been one of Professor McGonagall's stipulations upon their return, which she claimed would help promote a united front. This had been welcome news for Madame Malkin, who had been kept very busy measuring up a hoard of eighteen year olds for new robes.

He glanced at his watch, it was 2am. He reached into the bottom of his trunk and pulled out a bottle, stopping for a moment to listen as it clinked loudly against another on its way out. When he was happy everyone was still asleep he slipped the bottle with his cigarettes into his pocket and headed out of the common room. 

The fat lady was asleep in her portrait, breathing heavily. She'd taken some coaxing back after the final battle, in which Filch had resorted to enticing her with the proposal he hang her with her best friend Violet. The pair were as thick as thieves and were frequently up late into the night together indulging in their favourite past time of eating chocolate liquors and cackling into the early hours. 

He walked silently down the empty seventh floor corridor, not sure exactly where he was heading. The astronomy tower was always a good place for some peace, but that did come with the risk of bumping into someone else looking for the same thing. He took a chance, hoping by this late hour any loved up couples looking for somewhere to fool around would have already gone back to their common rooms. 

He saw no one on the way, not even a sound from Filch and Mrs Norris, who had become ever more vigilant after the war. 

He had forgotten how remarkable the view from here was as he stepped up to the railing. Even in the dead of night the silvery moon lit up the mountains with a dazzling iridescent light. He stood for a moment just looking, before climbing up onto the rail and hooking his feet securely under the cross bar. 

It was still September and the weather was mild, but up here the air was crisp and fresh with a pleasantly cool breeze that ruffled Harry's hair. He lit a cigarette and held it loosely between his lips as he pulled out the bottle of whisky and unscrewed the cap. He took a deep drink, savouring the slight burn as it went down and followed it with several drags of his cigarette. His body started to relax, and he let out a deep sigh. His mind unconsciously drifting back to Snape. 

He was loath to admit it, but it had been a long time since he had actually hated Snape. He still disliked the man, but there was less of the malice and the spite that had previously existed between them. What had remained was more of a indisposition, born more from the familiarity of the nature of things then any real intent to harm. 

He couldn't quite recall when the hatred had stopped. He thought it had been after the war, but realistically it had been a long time before that. Snape was mean and nasty, there was no doubt about that, but an understanding of what he'd been though, somewhat justified his brutality. 

Harry was under no false pretences that Snape actually cared for him. If he was trying to help him it was under some misplaced obligation or an ulterior motive. If he was expecting Harry's gratitude or some future favour he'd be disappointed. Harry wasn't some fragile teacup that needed handling with care, he'd been thrown head first into situations most grown adults could only imagine in their worst nightmares and had lived to tell the tale. He was used to it, it came with the territory. 

Harry was disturbed by the click of boots on the stairs. He froze for a minute, considering hiding out of view, then decided he didn't really care. He needn't have worried, as it wasn't a professor that emerged out of the dark stairwell and into the moonlight, but the dazzling blonde head of Draco Malfoy. 

Harry had had little to do with Malfoy since their encounter on the Hogwarts express. He still strutted around the castle like gods gift, but mostly lacked his usual swagger. He was less confrontational and seemed less inclined to pick fights, which had been his favourite past time before now. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it but there was something different about him. Sometimes in the great hall he would catch him staring over at the Gryffindor table, a look of vulnerability about him. Perhaps Draco felt Harry was owed something after Harry had saved his life from the burning inferno in the room of requirements, or maybe he truly had just had enough of fighting. 

He had never carried the same kind of hatred for Malfoy then he had for Snape. Malfoy was young, impressionable. Then again so was Snape, once. He saw the way his father treated him, overly critical, always berating him. Yet Malfoy, like any son, wanted only to make his father proud, in his own way. Constantly seeking approval but never being granted it. 

His mother seemed genuine, a mother's love was strong, but so was her fear of her husband. Harry had always presumed that Narcissa, like Lucius, was merely indifferent towards her son, until that moment in the final battle when she had begged for Draco’s safety and helped Harry against Voldemort in return.

Draco was far from the self entitled brat that had offered Harry his hand in their first year. In some ways he and Harry, and even Snape for that matter were more alike then they ever thought they could be. They had all been asked to do too much, to bare more than they were able. 

"Are you drunk?" asked Harry surprised, looking over his shoulder as he watched Malfoy trip on an uneven floorboard and nearly send himself over the battlements. 

He looked up at Harry, momentarily taken aback by the presence of someone in what he clearly expected to be an empty room. 

"What's it to you Potter? " he slurred slightly, his usual tidy hair hanging haphazardly across his forehead . His shirt sleeves were pushed up over his elbows and Harry caught a glimpse of the silvery outline of his dark mark. The edges were red and scabbed in places and Harry thought with horror that it looked as though he had tried to scrub it off his skin. 

He saw Malfoy glance around to see if Harry was alone before he approached the edge, thankfully a little steadier on his feet now. He gripped the rail a few feet away from where Harry sat, and looked out at the view, his white fingers a stark contrast with the dark iron below them. 

Harry looked back out at the night sky, taking another draw of his forgotten cigarette. He flicked off the long line of ash that had accumulated on the tip, watching it glow for a few seconds before it was swallowed by the darkness below.

"It's a long way down" Malfoy said thoughtfully, as he leant a little precariously over the edge. 

"Mmm" said Harry, keeping one eye on Malfoy as he screwed the lid back on his bottle and slid it into his pocket, feeling a sudden need to have both his hands free. 

Harry slid off the rail and moved away from the edge, sitting on some steps and unscrewing his bottle again. Part of him wanted to just leave, he wasn't in the mood for a run in with Malfoy, but the other part was intrigued at what had drawn him to the drink and up to the tower. 

Malfoy turned to lean back against the railing, making Harry feel a little easier. It had been making Harry strangely anxious the longer he had stayed looking over the edge. 

He had a haunted look in his eyes as he looked about the tower, clearly remembering the last time he was up here and what he had been planning, but failed to do. Harry had forgotten for a moment whilst looking at the beauty of the place that this was where Dumbledore had fallen, where Snape had stepped in and killed him.  
There must be something in the water thought Harry as he took another drink. Trust Malfoy of all people to gate crash Harrys pity party with his own troubles. 

The slosh of the liquor in the bottle seemed to have caught Malfoy's attention, and his eyes focused on the bottle in Harrys hand where his cigarette burnt low, but was still hanging loosely between his fingers. 

"I didn't know you smoked" Malfoy said, closing the gap between them and sitting on the step at Harry’s feet.

"Its a recent thing" Harry replied, holding the packet out to him before he even realised what he was doing. 

Draco shook his head before reaching into his robes and pulling out an obnoxious looking silver cigarette holder, and proceeded to insert his own cigarette between his lips. 

"Not so recent" said Malfoy with some of his usual arrogance, as he took a drag and blew out a row of smoke rings. 

"Impressive" said Harry a little dazed, unable to draw his eyes away from Malfoy's mouth as his tongue flicked against the O shape he had made with his lips.

He'd had very mixed feelings about Malfoy for longer then he cared to admit. Apart from his questionable loyalty, Harry had come to appreciate the man that he had grown to be. Perhaps it was the long blonde hair or his pointy feminine face. But until now Harry hadn't realised that he had blatantly checked him out on more then one occasion. And now that Harry had discovered an, appreciation, for the male form, Malfoy was looking all the better for it. 

Jesus! thought Harry. It had only been a few weeks and it seemed he was desperate enough to be looking at Draco bloody Malfoy as a potential leg over. 

"So,” said Malfoy, fixing Harry with the full force of his icy stare ."Are you going to share that whisky or not?" 

Harry passed it down, a little shocked at having not been cursed or insulted yet. 

Draco took a drink, savouring his mouthful before swallowing." Not bad" he said, clearly surprised by Harry's good taste in liquor. 

They passed some time in relative silence, passing the bottle backwards and forwards between then. Harry at a loss for words, but the silence comfortable. Part of him wanted to tell him to fuck off and find someone else's liquor to steal, and the other half was wanting to see where this was heading. 

"I saw your article in the daily prophet" said Draco suddenly, lip curled up in a smirk ."You finally grown a pair then. Realised there's more fun to be had then with little Miss Weasley?“

"Something like that" said Harry shrugging, a little too buzzed to disagree. 

"Heard its not just the girls taking your fancy these days either Potter" Draco added, his eyes glittering with mirth. "Is anyone game?" 

Now things were definitely getting interesting thought Harry, feeling a little brazen now that the whisky was working it's magic. 

"What's it to you?" said Harry, lighting up another cigarette. 

"Just didn't have you down as the type." 

"And what, type, would you have me down as?” Harry replied, the conversation heading way out of his comfort zone but seemingly unable to stop it. 

Draco smiled widely and laughed a genuine laugh, showing his perfectly white teeth. Harrys stomach gave a strange jolt at the action. He was sure this was the first time he had ever seen him laugh and it looked good on him. 

"Well... I always thought you were a bit of a, well a bit of a prude really" replied Draco still smiling. "More your lights out, socks still on sort of guy."

Harry barked out a laugh, bringing his cigarette back up to his mouth. Draco’s eyes following the movement. 

"Thought about it a lot have you?" asked Harry, feeling way out of his depth but continuing the conversation all the same. 

"Constantly" drawled Malfoy, his pupils dilating unmistakably as he watched Harry insert the cigarette between his lips and inhale. Two flushes of pink appearing high on his cheeks. 

If Harry didn't know any better he'd think Malfoy was flirting with him. 

Before Harry could dwell any further, Draco staggered a little clumsily to his feet and made towards the staircase. The sun was starting to rise behind him. 

He stopped before he reached the steps turning back to speak. "Well.. I don't know what the fuck this was" he said, eyebrows knitted together but a slight smirk on his lips, as he gestured vaguely in Harry's direction. "But I'm going, before this gets any.. weirder then it already is. See you around Potter."

Harry sat nursing the empty bottle of whisky and started to laugh as he watched Malfoy leave. Well that was definitely odd he thought to himself as he headed back to Gryffindor tower. 

Just two hours after he had finally got into bed Ron was shaking him roughly awake. 

"Bloody hell Harry! you smell like a brewery. Who've you been drinking with?" he said, clearly a little insulted at not being asked. 

"No one" Harry replied groaning, throwing an arm over his over sensitive eyes as the light shone brightly through his now open curtains. 

"I just had a bit before bed was all. Needed to unwind after Snape's bloody detention." 

"Oh shit, sorry, forgot you had that mate. How was it?" 

"How do you think?" 

"That bad? Though to be fair you did provoke him Harry" replied Ron scathingly, doing a scarily good impersonation of Hermione. 

Twenty minutes later and after a very cold shower that made him feel worse if anything, he shuffled into the Great Hall behind Ron, squinting at the bright lights and noise of the great hall. His hair was still wet and dripping unpleasantly down his neck as he dragged himself over to the Gryffindor table. He glanced sideways at the Slytherin table as he passed and saw Malfoy being fussed over by an overly concerned Pansy. His face was in his hands which were atop the table as she carded her fingers through his already mussed hair. She looked to be encouraging him to take a drink from a goblet beside him and as he lifted his head he caught Harry's eye and quickly looked away. 

Harry could only image how rough he must be feeling after the amount he'd consumed last night. He watched for a second as he lifted his goblet to his lips and then lowered it without taking a drink. Harry laughed to himself before sitting down and tentatively eating some breakfast. 

Ginny came in half way though breakfast muffling a loud yawn behind her hand. "Someone else who got in late?" said Ron, as Ginny looked up grinning. 

"Alright Mum, calm down" she said, grabbing herself a pile of toast. "You too?" she asked Harry after she'd inhaled the first slice. It seemed poor eating habits ran in the family. 

"I just had a few drinks in the grounds was all. Just needed some space you know. Clear my head."

Ginny frowned at him and raised an eyebrow. They might not be together any more but Ginny almost always knew when he was lying. Luckily everyone had gone back to their breakfast so didn't notice Ginny’s disbelievingly look. 

"Me and some of the boys are going down to the quidditch pitch tonight if you fancy it?" asked Ron, as they pushed their way through the crowd on their way to charms. 

“Yeah might do" said Harry, momentarily distracted by someone hissing his name from a near by alcove. 

"Potter.. Potter!” 

Looking over he saw Malfoy of all people, motioning to him from half in the shadows. 

"I'll catch you up" called Harry, as Ron and Hermione were swept away in the mass of students. 

He doubled back and slipped into the alcove. Inclining his head in acknowledgment at Malfoy we had propped himself against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, the picture of confidence. 

"You look like shit Potter." 

"Thanks" laughed Harry. "You looked in the mirror yourself this morning."

Draco sneered, though his eyes flashed with what looked like amusement. 

Harry stood there expectantly, feeling a little uncomfortable at Draco’s scrutiny. 

"You should keep away from the astronomy tower" he said suddenly, looking down his pointed nose at Harry who had forgotten how tall he was. He had to crick his neck up slightly to look him fully in the face as he replied. 

"Why?“ said Harry, not sure he wanted to give up his spot. Granted this was the first time he'd been up there this year but that didn't give Malfoy the right to claim ownership of it. 

Draco sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose between two of his long pale fingers. 

"Because Potter, I said so, and unless you want to be at the end of a particularly painful hex, you'll do as I say." 

There was the Draco Harry knew. 

"No, I don't think I will" said Harry, suddenly feeling reckless. Malfoy didn't get to rock up half drunk, ask about his personal life then the next morning get on his high horse and start making demands. Harry would go where he damn well pleased. 

Draco’s face twitched, perhaps in an attempt to keep his emotions in check. Malfoys as a matter of principle were unused to having their orders questioned, and Harry's out right refusal had clearly hit a nerve. 

"You might want to rethink that Potter" said Malfoy, his voice a little strained. 

"No I really don't" said Harry, stepping into Malfoys personal space. The air between them crackling with tension as Malfoy’s face flushed. 

Draco lurched forward grabbing a fist full of Harry’s robes. 

"Put him down Draco," came Snape's tell-tale drawl from across the corridor. "You don't know where he's been."

Draco swiftly dropped Harry where he stumbled, close to loosing his balance. 

"Lessons have already started, move along." Snape proceeded to scribble his signature on a piece of parchment and hand it to Draco. What were the chances of Harry getting a hall pass he thought miserably. 

"Thank you, Sir" Draco replied, smirking at Potter before slinging his bag on his shoulder and strutting off to class. 

Harry turned to follow, wanting nothing less then to be left alone with Snape again.

"Potter, a moment please."

Harry stopped and took a deep breath before reluctantly turning back around.

"You'd do well not to get.. involved.. with Mr Malfoy, Potter."

"Involved?" said Harry indignantly. "What exactly did you think was going on?" 

"You tell me Potter. I was merely relieved to see you were still wearing your trousers this time" sneered Snape. 

Snape saw a flash of hurt cross Harry's face and insistently regretted saying it. Perhaps it was a little unfair. 

"I'm not even having this conversation" said Harry turning to walk away. 

"He's not the sort of person I would advise you get, acquainted with. He has certain.. proclivities.. that I believe you, like most others, would find tasteless."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" spat Harry, spinning back around, "And who the hell do you think you are, telling me who I can and can't speak to." 

"Oh yes, speaking is always ever so high on your to do list Mr Potter."

"If your insinuating what I think you are, you couldn't be further from the truth."

Snape snorted. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He held Harrys angry glare for a moment, before turning in his usual dramatic fashion and stalking back down the corridor. 

What the hell was his problem thought Harry as he ran towards the charms classroom already ten minutes late.


	7. Help will always be given at Hogwarts, Harry, to those who ask for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all your lovely comments and Kudos so far. Keep it coming, they spur me on to write. Also just want to mention there's slight references to knife/blood play in this chapter, not enough to warrant a tag but thought I'd give everyone a heads up.

"I thought I told you not to come back?" called Draco’s voice from a shadowed corner of the tower, watching as Harry climbed the stairs and stepped out into the moonlight. 

"And I thought I didn't care" replied Harry, unable to miss the way Draco's eyes flicked the length of his body, lingering on the open buttons at his neck. 

He'd changed his robes for muggle clothes tonight, and was wearing jeans tucked into his dragon hide boots with a button down shirt, the top three buttons left unfastened. He’d told himself firmly it absolutely wasn't in anticipation of bumping into Malfoy tonight, his protests sounding pathetic even to his own ears. 

It had been a week since he had met Malfoy. A week since Snape, in some misguided attempt to protect Harry’s virtue had warned him to keep his distance from the Slytherin. What Snape hadn't realised is that he'd done nothing but pique Harry's interest, leaving Harry wondering what Malfoy could possible be in to, that would trouble even Snape's twisted mind. 

The sexual encounters Harry had engaged in over the last few months had not been particularly adventurous, not by anyone's standards. Comprising mostly of hand jobs in dirty pub toilets, and drunken blow jobs down alleyways. He'd never gone home with any of these men, as much as he'd acted as though his assault over the summer hadn't affected him, it had made him a little weary of being alone with anyone he didn't know. 

Thoughts of Malfoy's peculiar appetites had been at the forefront of Harry's mind ever since. He'd often find himself zoning out in the middle of a particularly boring divination class, whilst he imagined what unspeakable things Malfoy liked to get up to. The thought should have scared him a little, it should definitely have kept him away from Malfoy, and most certainly didn't explain why he had picked out another bottle of whisky, brushed his teeth twice and was heading back up to the Astronomy Tower. 

"You got a death wish Potter?"

“I'm not scared of you Malfoy."

"Well maybe you should be" replied Malfoy a little threateningly. As he spoke, he lifted a heavily bejewelled hip flask to his lips and took a drink. 

Pompous prick, Harry thought to himself, as he hovered in the doorway for a moment before turning his back on Malfoy and heading over to his previous spot by the railings. He climbed up on to the rail, purposely ignoring Malfoy who was glaring at the back of his head.

The weather had turned this week, as a more autumnal air descended on the castle. The sky was clear but the wind had a chill to it and he shivered slightly. 

It took Malfoy the grand total of eighteen seconds before he stomped over to where Harry sat and climbed up beside him. 

"Cold, Potter?" he asked, voice teasing as he eyed Harry's erect nipples through his thin white shirt. 

Harry folded his arms over his chest defensively and glared at him. 

"Is that what you came over here to say? “

"No, I came for a cigarette, I've left mine in the dungeons."

"Unlucky" said Harry smugly. Taking one out and lighting it just to prove a point. 

Draco watched him intently as he took several draws, biding his time before he reached over and plucked the cigarette from between Harry's parted lips and inserted it between his own. The action strangely intimate for two supposed enemies. 

"Have you quite finished" asked Harry outraged, as Malfoy took a deep drag looking far too pleased with himself. 

Moving to take out another he was halted in his action by Malfoy reaching back into his personal space to place the now slightly damp tip of the cigarette back in his mouth. 

Harry started slightly, as Malfoy's thumb brushed briefly against Harry's bottom lip, all the while Harry couldn't stop thinking about how that was Malfoy's saliva that was now in his mouth. 

"You could have kept it" Harry managed to get out, swallowing heavily. 

Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment, before swinging his ridiculously long legs back over the bar and onto the ground beneath him, he leant back far enough so he could still see Harry's face before he spoke again. 

"So let's see your tattoo again Potter?" 

"No" said Harry automatically, taken off guard. 

"Come now” Malfoy laughed. “Stop playing the innocent now, it won't work on me."

"Fine" snapped Harry, taking a long drink from the bottle he had got from his pocket before sliding onto the floor beside the blonde. 

"If you wanted me out of my clothes Malfoy you only had to ask."

Malfoys eyebrows shot up, as Harry instantly regretted giving him the ammunition. 

"Oh I want" smirked Malfoy, following Harry's fingers as they unfastened his buttons one by one and his shirt drifted open to expose his chest and stomach. The phoenix as usual sprang to life, fluttering around his back and down his hip. 

Malfoy stepped closer, entranced by the birds movements as it shimmered brightly across Potters nicely defined V lines. 

Harrys breath hitched, as without warning two cold fingers made contact with his now burning skin. Harry slapped his hand away and Malfoy chuckled.  
“Save the coy colt act for someone who believes it Potter” leered Malfoy. "Why the phoenix anyway?" 

"Does it matter?" replied Harry, already starting to button back up his shirt. 

"Suppose not, I just expected something a little more Gryffindor."

"You mean like your oh so Slytherin tattoo."

Harry knew he'd spoken out of turn the moment he said it, he knew Malfoy’s mark was clearly a difficult subject for him, and Harry had most definitely rubbed him up the wrong way now. 

Before Harry could apologise Malfoy’s wand was pressing sharply into his neck and his other hand had grabbed a fistful of Harrys still open shirt.

"You want to say that again Potter!" 

Harry tried to say sorry, but the hand from his shirt had found itself up by his neck and he was starting to find it a little difficult to breathe. 

He kicked Malfoy hard in the shin, causing him to step back with a hiss. He opened his mouth again but Malfoy was back on him. 

"I didn't mean.." Harry started, before his legs were kicked out from under him and his head cracked hard on the floorboards below, Malfoy falling down with him. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Harry exclaimed, grabbing fistfuls of Malfoy’s robes in an attempt to gain some leverage. Malfoy now had one of Harry's wrists pinned above his head having lost his wand somewhere in the tussle. He pushed all his weight down and stuck a bony knee hard into Harry's side causing him to cry out, then as sudden as Malfoy had started, he stopped, looked Harry in the eye before crashing his lips against his. Harry froze for a moment, before kissing back. 

It was all tongue and teeth, a continuation of their fight as they bit and scratched at one another, Harry's glasses digging painfully into his face. Harry managed to hook a leg over Malfoy's and flip them over, he might be nearly a foot taller then Harry but he was stronger then Malfoy. He grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, sitting up for a moment panting heavily as he looked down at Malfoy's dishevelled form below him. His tie was loose, and his shirt which had become untucked at some point had ridden up exposing his pale stomach. Harry glanced down at the expanse of skin and was taken aback by the hundreds of silvery scars that littered it, some long and thin and others short and thick and a little pink around the edges still. He looked up at Malfoy who seemed oblivious to Harry's scrutiny, his lips a little pink and swollen, and his eyes glazed over. 

Anger still flashed in his eyes as he managed to push himself up on his elbows and latch on to Harry's neck. He sucked hard, and Harry leant into the touch, moaning unabashedly as he licked the spot before grazing his teeth along the rapidly forming bruise. He thought for a moment he should really stop him from leaving so many noticeable marks above his shirt collar, but it felt too good for him to object. He realised he'd let go of Malfoy's wrists only when he was slammed onto his back again and Malfoy was suddenly straddling his hips, his prick noticeably hard through his uniform trousers, hot and hard against Harrys thigh. 

"You like it rough Potter?“ asked Malfoy, his pupils dilated as he ripped open the two remaining buttons at the bottom of Harrys shirt. He pushed the flimsy fabric off his chest, catching his nails intentionally across his skin. 

Harrys breath hitched but he didn't reply. 

Malfoy leant down and bit hard on one of Harry's nipples, he groaned low in his throat, his hips thrusting up of their own accord. His hands scrabbling helplessly at Malfoy’s back as he squeezed Harry's now growing erection though his jeans. 

"I'll take that as a yes" Malfoy taunted.

"Self righteous prat" Harry managed to mutter, before Malfoy's mouth was back on his. Harry tried to turn his head away in an attempt to gain the upper hand when Malfoy's hands grasped either side of his head and he thrust his tongue deep into his mouth. It was wet and filthy, and Harry loved it. It had been weeks since he'd had anything but his own hand for company, and the warmth of another moving body above him had made him hard embarrassingly quickly.

Malfoy nipped hard at Harry's bottom lip before sliding down his body to wrap his lips back around a nipple. Sliding a supple thigh between Harrys spread legs and smirking as Harry rubbed shamelessly against it.

He dragged his tongue painstakingly slowly down Harry's torso, dipping into his navel before biting at his hip bone. Harry was watching him with interest, propped up on one elbow, his glasses now discarded. 

Draco slid a finger under the waistband of Harry's jeans and popped the button, lowered his head and took the zip in his teeth before dragging it down, his chin brushing over his cock causing Harry to squirm. Then a wet heat was mouthing at him through the thin cotton of his boxers as his jeans were pulled roughly off his legs. 

Harry tried to sit up fully, uncomfortably aware of their conflicting states of dress. He reached for Malfoys shirt and had his hand viciously slapped away. 

"Eas.sy" hissed Harry, the words getting lost slightly as Malfoy's mouth suddenly materialised on his bare cock. 

"Shit, Malfoy," he moaned loudly, pushing up into his mouth.

His hips were pushed firmly back down, Malfoy's long thin fingers pressing painfully into his hips. 

He smiled around Harrys prick, his canine teeth flashing ferally as he looked up at Harry, clearly taking great pleasure in the flustered state he’d reduced the great Harry Potter too. 

Harry tried to push a hand into Malfoy’s hair and had his hand slapped away for the second time. 

"Unless you want me to stop Potter, I'd suggest you remove your hand this instance.”

Harry pulled his hand back quickly and was rewarded as Malfoy swapped his mouth for his fist, and proceeded to take Harry’s balls into his mouth, sucking gently as he worked him firmly with his hand. 

Harry moaned low in his throat. Fighting against the hands holding him down. 

"Ah.. Fuck!" whined Harry loudly. 

"I didn't have you down as a screamer Potter" said Malfoy, that smug look back on his face. "You're going to wake the whole fucking castle at this rate."

"You'd better shut me up then hadn't you” snapped Harry in frustration, reaching down and placing Malfoy’s hand firmly across his mouth. Eyes flashing with defiance as he breathed warm puffs of air across Malfoy’s sensitive palm before biting hard on his fingers. 

"Fuck me potter, you kinky little bitch" laughed Malfoy, excitement evident in his voice. "If I'd have known this would shut you up, I'd have tried it years ago!"

Harry was breathing heavily through his nose, swallowing thickly as Malfoy lifted one of his legs to his chest and stuck two of his own fingers in his mouth. Holding Harry's gaze he sucked them in and out a few times, hollowing his cheeks obscenely before pulling them out with a wet pop. 

Harry was glad for the hand over his mouth when he finally pushed his fingers inside him. But what Harry hadn't been expecting was the sharp sting of a blade being dragged down his hip and the warm trickle of blood that seeped down his leg. 

Harry sat up, ripping the hand from his mouth and gaping down at Malfoy who had been in the process of bringing his mouth over the wound and had blood on his chin. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" spat Harry summoning his wand from his discarded clothes and scooting out of Malfoy’s reach. 

"I thought you liked it rough" said Malfoy matter of factly. 

"Not this fucking rough" shouted Harry, hastily pulling his jeans back on. "You cut me, for christ sake, and.. tried to lick it! Do you not see how fucked up that is!" 

Malfoy shrugged unapologetically, sitting down on the ground. "Each to their own" he said adjusting himself through his trousers. 

"You're still fucking hard!" spat Harry in disgust. “What is wrong with you!”

Harry picked up his shoes and headed for the stairs, Malfoy now on his feet and trailing after him. “Look Potter, I’m sorry if you wasn’t in to it, but how was I to know?“

"You’re sick in the head Malfoy. Stay out of my way."

The pair came blundering down the staircase and into the corridor below. Neither paying any attention to who could be patrolling the corridors as they continued shouting at one another.  
“You need help” added Harry, as they turned a corner, Harry hoping to loose Malfoy on the main stairs but instead walking right into the lit wand of Professor Snape, who looked taken aback for a moment before his usual scowl fell into place.

They both shielded their eyes from the bright illumination of Snape's wand. Harry's shirt was still open and hanging precariously off one shoulder, his neck now a spattering of dark angry bruises. Snape lowered his wand and saw the blood on the bottom of Potter’s shirt, then the still bleeding cut just visible above his unbuttoned jeans and the ten angry finger prints painted across his narrow hips. 

Snape looked over at Malfoy who had blood smeared across his bottom lip and chin. 

"Have you got the faintest idea what you two look like!" spat Snape. 

Harry opened his mouth to argue that this really wasn't his idea, when Snape cut him off. 

"Mr Malfoy, return immediately to your dormitory! I'll deal with you in the morning."

"Sir.." Malfoy started. 

"I said now Draco!" 

Malfoy sloped off to the Slytherin common room, sending Harry one last look as he turned the corner. 

"Potter, with me."

The walk to the dungeons seemed to take an age, even with Snape marching ahead and Harry having to keep breaking into a run to keep up. Snape had insisted on keeping his old office in the dungeons and had given the headmasters office over to Professor McGonagall. He couldn't bring himself to sit in Albus' chair, behind his desk, day in day out, with his smiling portrait hanging on the wall. 

He braced himself for the inevitable as Snape lifted the wards on his office and slammed open the door, Harry stepping reluctantly inside behind him.

Snape rounded his desk, bracing both hands on its polished surface before looking up at Harry who was still hovering near the doorway looking the picture of depravity. 

Snape’s eyes roamed over Harry's body, cataloguing his many cuts and bruises, Harry having the audacity to blush under the scrutiny. 

"I'm not going to say I told you so."

"You're not?" 

"No. It would do neither of us any good. Come here."

Harry hesitated for a moment before approaching the desk. "I know you hinted he was into some freaky shit Professor, but I imagined he'd maybe wanna knock me about a bit or, tie me up, not pull a fucking knife on me."

"Quite" said Snape, as images flashed unconsciously before his eyes of Harry, bound and struggling.

"You could have been a little more specific with your warning professor."

"I thought my warning, deterrent enough. Would you have been eager to believe me if I had said so?" 

"Probably not" said Harry, wincing slightly as he tried to sit down. 

"Come here" Snape repeated, lifting his wand. 

Harry stepped closer, flinching slightly as Snape pressed his wand to the wound and whispered an incantation. The wound healed itself and the blood disappeared. 

"Would you like me to remove the others?“ he asked, his eyes flickering over Harry's bruised neck and hips. 

"Erm, yeah" Harry muttered, a little abashed. "Are they bad?" 

"Put it this way Mr Potter, were they to be seen by anyone but me, their first instinct would be that you'd been mauled by a wild animal." 

"I'm not convinced I wasn't" said Harry, touching his hips gingerly. 

"Indeed" said Snape, starting to heal the bruises along his neck. 

"I mean what sort of person even gets off on something like that?"

“You'd be surprised, Mr Potter. When you've walked in the same circles as myself and Mr Malfoy, we have seen everything."

"What, so you're all into that weird shit?" asked Harry uncomfortably, taking a step back. 

"No, Mr Potter" Snape answered, lip curling, "I can assure you, we are not."

Harry looked a little relieved as he stepped back into Snape's reach. 

"But I would ask that you save your judgement of Mr Malfoy, and perhaps try not to judge him too harshly for it."

"You saw what he did to me didn't you?" asked Harry, amazed that Snape would still try to defend Malfoy. 

"You mistake me Mr Potter, I am in no way trying to condone Mr Malfoy's behaviour, I ask only that you consider his motives. Draco has been exposed to an array of, unsavoury behaviours, from a very young age. Then, as a young man, I have been led to believe his, initiation, into the Dark Lords fold was not without its, savageries. The disturbing behaviour that Draco demonstrated tonight, was not thought up by a pure mind, it was merely a projection of that what has been previously inflicted upon himself. It is my belief, that his way of coping with what he had to endure at the hands of the Dark Lord and his, servants, was to convince himself of his enjoyment of this act, and now, in some truly strange and twisted way he undoubtedly enjoys inflicting it on others."

Harry sighed, suddenly remembered the collection of scars adorning Draco's body and his reluctance to undress. 

Snape straightened up, the last of the bruises now fading from Harry's hips.

"I had no idea." said Harry meekly. 

"Few do" said Snape. "It's not always as clear as black and white, or right and wrong. I would however, appreciate it if you didn't mention this knowledge to Mr Malfoy. His recovery is a work in progress, and I fear if he was expelled from Hogwarts he would quickly become a lost cause. I assure you, he will not bother you again."

"Okay" said Harry simply. 

"Now then," said Snape, moving back behind his desk and sitting down in the chair. “Your detention will be tomorrow, 7pm.”  


“What! Why?“ asked Harry outraged.  


“You, like Mr Malfoy, were out of bed after hours, consuming alcohol on school grounds, which I can smell on your breath before you try and deny it, and fraternizing with another student. You have broken at least three school rules, be thankful detention is all you will be getting.”

“Right, fine” Said Harry. 

"If you can demonstrate a capability of displaying even a modicum of propriety, between now and then Potter, I won't make it a weeks worth of detentions. Now get out."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes sir." 

It was a long time after Harry returned to Gryffindor tower before he managed to fall asleep. He lay in bed thinking about Malfoy, and the fucked up things he must have had to endure to make him the way he was. He was also finding it difficult to accept this knew found caring side Snape seemed to be exhibiting. The way he had defended Malfoy, pitied him, a man he believed to be devoid of all feelings who seemed to genuinely want to help him. 

The war may be over but Harry was starting to believe that for people like him, Malfoy and even Snape, the battle had only just begun.


	8. Suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found this chapter a little difficult to write. I think it was because it was the turning chapter. The one where they move on slightly from the hate, to more of a common ground. I hope the development comes across as natural and i apologise for the slightly shorter chapter, but hopefully now they have crossed this bridge chapters will be coming thick and fast. Once again thankyou so much for reading and for the lovely comments and kudos, keep them coming!

Harry raised his hand to Snape’s office door and hesitated. It was an unconscious gesture, but it had made him feel unexplainably nervous. He’d knocked on this door more times then all of Gryffindor put together so it really didn’t explain why he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. 

He took a deep breath and tried again. 

“Come in” came Snape’s answering voice, so Harry did.

On this occasion it had been made blatantly obvious what he was expected to spend the next two hours doing. The bench in front of Snape’s desk was piled high with dirty cauldrons and empty vials, stirring rods and potion scales.

Snape looked up briefly from his desk and gestured to the pile, looking particularly pleased at Harry’s disgruntled expression.

Harry stepped up to the table, shedding his cloak and rolling up his sleeves. As much as he detested cleaning cauldrons he much preferred it to talking with Snape, so he set about them with gusto, the physical labour unexpectedly pleasant in its distraction.

Snape was working a few feet away, marking essays by the looks of the pile of papers covered in bright red ink. He worked in silence, and did not spare Harry a glance. Harry on the other hand kept finding himself looking over at Snape, his head bent over his work, his hair falling into his face.

His face looked relaxed, and Harry thought for a moment it was the first time he’d ever looked at the man without seeing a scowl or a sneer. He looked younger like this, his eyes flicking up and down the page in front of him and his lips twitching slightly as he read. He looked almost human. It was a strange thing, to think of Snape as a person. Made up of flesh and blood like everyone else, with feelings, with wants and desires. He realised he knew more about Snape then he did about most people, which surely was unusual for a man he was supposed to hate. 

He knew that Snape liked men. That he liked a drink, but found the drunk distasteful. He knew he had a cup of Earl Grey tea in a morning, and that his house smelt like pine and freshly ground coffee. He knew that he felt guilty, always, but never projected that guilt on others. And more recently he’d learnt that Snape possessed a fierce protective streak, which he seemed unable to control. 

The candle light from the sconce behind Snape’s desk flickered into light, highlighting the jut of his jaw and the sharp cut of his cheek bones. Harry found himself noticing things about Snape that had never even entered his head before. Like how his dark eyelashes were casting shadows over his cheeks, and how the many buttons of his teaching robes strained slightly as he breathed in and out. He observed the pale column of Snape’s throat as he swallowed, and how he would unconsciously bite his bottom lip when marking a particular bad paper. 

Harry had never had a type when it came to women. Pretty, and willing, was about his only scruple, but with men he had always found certain features caught his eye. He liked them tall, dark hair and eyes, and he was a sucker for a well defined cupids bow and a chiselled jaw. 

Snape would never be what anyone would call aesthetically pleasing. His nose was too long, his skin too pale, and his hair was always a little on the lank side, but objectively, and besides the fact he was an ill tempered sarcastic bastard, he wasn’t a bad looking man. Harry stopped suddenly, realising with abject horror that he was checking Snape out. 

Harry looked away his face flushing, busying himself with a particularly grimy cauldron but finding only a few minutes later his gaze being drawn back to Snape. He watched as he put down his quill to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear, looking up and meeting Harry’s inquisitive gaze. Harry sucked in a particularly loud breath, which resounded loudly in the empty classroom.

Harry looked away blushing furiously now as he tried to concentrate on the cauldron in front of him, managing to slosh water all down his front. 

Snape cleared his throat, Harry realising he couldn’t look at him, scared of what he would see. 

Harry couldn’t explain why he’d done it, the noise had escaped him completely unintentionally. It was such a normal gesture, for anyone else, but there had been something about seeing Snape do it, his fingers brushing against the strand of hair before they curved around the shell of his ear and then down his jaw. It just felt so personal. 

Harry fought down the heat that was rising to his face, mortified at being caught checking out Snape of all people. What was wrong with him! This was Professor Bloody Snape. Ex death eater. Greasy dungeon bat and Slytherin sympathiser. 

Snape coughed again, and with great reluctance Harry was forced to look up as he heard the threatening scrape of a chair being pushed back.

“Can I help you, Mr Potter?” asked Snape, voice dripping with its usual sarcasm.

Harry caught his eye for the briefest of seconds before looking away, terrified Snape would know instantly what he’d been thinking. 

“No, Professor” answered Harry, his eyes now back firmly on the table. 

Snape frowned, pushing his papers to one side and resting his forearms on the table. “Subtlety has never been your strong point Potter, it’s obvious you have something to say, now out with it.”

“It’s nothing, Professor.”

“Has Mr Malfoy been bothering you again?“

“No, no, nothing like that. I haven’t seen him since.... well you know.” Harry replied a little lamely. 

“Good. I had words with Draco this morning, he has assured me that your, misunderstanding, will not happen again. He has also asked me to portray his apologies.”

“Right” said Harry starting to feel uncomfortable. He was still angry at Malfoy, but was finding it harder to stay angry after what he’d learnt last night. 

Snape waved his hand over the bench and the remaining equipment was instantly cleaned and stacked into neat piles. Harry looked up in surprise, watching as Snape crossed over to a cabinet behind his desk and procured two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid before sitting back down. He filled both glasses and slid one over the table, looking at Harry expectantly who was still standing behind the now empty table. 

“Is this a trap?” he said, eyeing the drink suspiciously. 

“No Mr Potter” said Snape, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Rest assured, this is no trap.”

Harry approached the desk and took a seat in the vacant chair. He picked up the glass uncertainly and took a sip, all the while expecting Snape to snatch it back from his hand, or to be given another detention. 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink?” asked Harry, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, but curious as to Snape’s sudden relaxation of school rules. 

“Oh yes Potter, because you always do such a splendid job of doing what your told.” 

Harry had the decency to at least look a little bashful. 

“Your eighteen, you’re of age. And if anyone asks, you can rest assured I will deny all knowledge, and you will suffer detention every night from now until June.”

“Understood” said Harry, relaxing a little more as Snape refilled his glass. 

“You know Malfoy isn’t your responsibility right?” said Harry suddenly, taking another drink. 

Snape looked up surprised, he knew Draco wasn’t his responsibility, it didn’t stop him from feeling responsible though. 

“Neither are you” replied Snape dryly. “Yet here we are.”

Harry scoffed, but decided not to take the bait. It was useless denying the amount of times Snape had come to his rescue, although his intentions were not always obvious at the time. 

“I don’t need help, there’s a difference.”

“Keep telling yourself that. You’re fooling no one Potter.”

“I think you’ll find I am” said Harry dejectedly. 

“Then more fool them” said Snape with a sudden fierceness. 

“I think, your trying to be nice” said Harry after a while. “But, why? You hate me remember.”

“I don’t hate you Potter. It’s more of a, strong dislike.... bordering on mild loathing.”

“Great” laughed Harry. “Glad we cleared that up.”

“Some habits are harder then others to break” said Snape with a smirk. 

They sat for a while in silence, both wanting to speak but not quite sure what to say. 

Snape broke the silence first. “I’m well aware that Mr Malfoy is not my responsibility, but his behaviour, worries me, not unlike someone else I know.” 

Harry looked at Snape before reaching forward and helping himself to another drink. 

“Me and Malfoy are nothing alike.” 

“No, you are not. But neither of you know how to ask for help” said Snape, moving the drink from Harry’s reach. 

“Maybe I’m just not used to anyone wanting to listen.”

“You’ve got friends, people who care about you. What about the Weasley’s or Miss Granger? Surely they would lend a sympathetic ear if required.” 

“They’ve got their own problems” said Harry uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “The Weasley’s are still mourning Fred, and... well Hermione’s with Ron now, so they hardly need me raining on their parade.”

“I’d hardly call it raining on their parade. Surely even Mr Weasley is astute enough to realise when a friend is in need of assistance.”

“He knows. They all know. They ask if I’m OK, I say I’m fine. We move on. It’s easier for all involved that way.”

“At first perhaps” said Snape, leaning back in his chair and crossing a leg. “You know you can’t go on like this though don’t you? Your grades are suffering, if nothing else. Is it not still your ambition to become an Auror?” 

Harry rolled his eyes and looked away. “I killed Voldemort remember. They’d accept me on to the programme tomorrow if I asked.”

“You’re probably right Potter. But you and I both know that you’re not the sort of person who takes anything he hasn’t rightly earned.”

Harry's gaze flicked back to Snape, that flash of vulnerability evident on his face again. 

“How do you know these things?” said Harry honestly, uncertain as to how Snape was always able to read him like a book. 

Snape brought his glass to his lips as he thought over his response. “Those that claim to care for you, would do well to take off their rose tinted glasses once in a while. They prefer to see what they want to see, and by doing so they fail to see what’s happening right under their very noses. I am under no such delusions. They do not understand, it matters not who you are, we all have our limits and breaking points. Your struggle should be evident to anyone with even an ounce of perception. But you must understand that to suffer is to be human, to hurt is to be alive. ”

Harry didn’t even try to protest, he was tired of lying, tired of putting on a brave face. Somehow it was easy to just accept it when it came from Snape. He had nothing left to prove to him. 

“The war and everything that came before it is all you’ve ever known, it will take time to adjust to a normal life. Let me help you.”

Harry didn’t hesitate, didn’t take a moment to think about it, about what it would mean to accept Snape’s help. He just said “Okay.”

Snape let out a breath, he was expecting at least some resistance, maybe it was worse then he anticipated. 

“I fear it would be highly hypocritical of me to tell you to refrain from drinking all together after tonight, but if I could ask that you restrict your consumption of alcohol to my office and classroom only. I cannot be seen to be allowing you liberties, even if you are the golden boy.”

Harry laughed, a genuine laugh. One that lit up his entire face, his eyes glittering, no trace left of the haunted expression that had been in its place, and in that moment, Snape swore he would do everything in his power to keep it that way.


	9. The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters

Harry woke the next morning feeling both relieved and apprehensive. He’d agreed to let Snape help him, but hadn’t a clue how, or even if, he would be able to do so. He wanted to be helped, he really did. He longed for a life of normality, to be able to walk down the street without looking over his shoulder, or to talk about the war without the crippling guilt that so often overwhelmed him. Snape would have his work cut out for him, Harry thought to himself, that was for sure. 

He headed down to breakfast in better spirits then in previous weeks, making a point to not look up at the staff table as he entered the Great Hall. He’d never taken much notice of the staff table in the past, but Snape’s presence was unmistakably noticeable, in the form of a black blur in Harrys peripheral vision the entire walk down to the Gryffindor table. 

Hermione and Ron were already most of the way through their breakfast by the time Harry joined them. Even their frantic whispering which stopped the moment Harry sat down didn’t anger him the way it would usually.

“Morning” said Ron, looking a little shifty. “Where were you last night?”

“Detention” Harry answered nonchalantly, helping himself to fried eggs and bacon. He didn’t usually have much of an appetite, especially in the mornings, but today he was ravenous.

“Who with? I don’t remember anyone giving you detention.”

“Snape” answered Harry. 

“Again!” said Hermione. “What ever for this time?”

“He caught me in the corridors, after hours.“

Hermione shook her head in disappointment, “Oh Harry, he didn’t! What were you doing out of bed?“ 

Harry considered telling them the truth just to see their faces, but thought better of it. 

Harry shrugged and carried on eating. Ron staying unusually quiet throughout.

“Pass me the prophet will you Mione” asked Harry.

Hermione passed it down with a frown before disappearing behind a large textbook. 

Harry flipped through the first few pages, it was a quiet day for news. A witch from Belgium had been arrested for selling Dragon eggs and a Wizard from London had been found...... Harry knocked the milk jug over in his rush to fold out the paper. A large picture of a blonde wizard took up most of page 6. He looked scared and bewildered, whilst a healer dressed in St Mungo’s lime green uniform kept giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Harry looked down to the article, ignoring Ron’s protests as he mopped up the spilt milk.

“Nicholas Hitchin, 29, of Priory Road, Oxford, was found by a dog walker on Thursday evening in woods outside High Wickham. He was reportedly in a state of manic confusion, and looked to have been living in the woods for some time. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol were called to the scene, and it was later discovered that Mr Hitchin, a registered missing person since early August, was suffering from a highly dangerous hallucinogenic. The effects of which seem to be keeping Mr Hitchin in a state of constant terror, where he is seemingly plagued by horrific delusions while both awake and sleeping. He has been admitted to St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries where he his still under going tests, but is yet to remember his own name or who he is. He is believed to still be experiencing frequent hallucinations, which reportedly send Mr Hitchin into a terror induced panic and as a result has needed to be sedated on several occasions. When questioned, Healer Rutherford Poke, of St Mungos, speculating on Mr Hitchin’s condition, said he believed it was likely caused by an incredibly strong Potion of Terror, the likes of which has not been seen since the days of He Who Must Not Be Named. He also assured us that they were working tireless to repair any damage to his memory, but that there was no certainty that even if the hallucinations could be stopped, that he would ever fully recover. 

When asked if the public should be concerned that this was the work of Death Eaters, The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol refused to answer, but did say they would be starting their enquiries with apothecarists and anyone skilled in Potions. 

Mr Hitchin had been missing for several months, after going missing on a night out in Wizarding London with friends. The friends who were with him that night insisted he had no enemies and were unanimous in their belief that no one would possibly want to hurt their friend. Anyone with any information is encouraged to come forward as a mater of urgency.”

Harry put down the paper, fingers shaking. He swallowed heavily, his head buzzing. Ignoring the questions from Ron and Hermione he looked up at the staff table and met Snape’s gaze. He was already looking in his direction, clearly waiting for Harry to read the article and jump to the blatantly obvious conclusion. Harry stared at him in alarm whilst Snape just raised an eyebrow in challenge as though to say “Prove it.”

Harry stood up from the table so suddenly he overturned the milk jug again, Ron and Hermione looking between Harry and the forgotten newspaper which was now soaking up the pool of milk. Hermione tried to put out an arm to stop Harry from leaving, but he pulled his arm free. 

“Harry, what’s going on? Where are you going?” 

Harry continued to ignore them as he walked with purpose up to the staff table, feeling ever pair of eyes in the hall on him. He stopped directly in front of Professor Snape, who was pretending not to notice the commotion and was sipping his coffee leisurely. 

“A word.. please.. Professor” asked Harry though gritted teeth. 

Snape took a last drink from his cup looking as though he was sorely tempted to refuse him, before standing in a flurry of robes and heading for the side door. Harry following amid the whispers. 

“This is highly inappropriate Potter!” hissed Snape, looking around to check no one was listening in. 

“Are you really going to lecture ME on propriety!” spat Harry, amazed. “What on earth did you do to him!”

“To who?“ asked Snape, feigning innocence.

“You’re really going to keep this up?”

Snape sighed and averted his gaze. “Some would say, he had it coming.”

“And some would say it makes you as bad as him” snapped Harry.

Snape moved towards Harry too quickly for him to prevent what happened next. One moment Harry was standing across the corridor from Snape, glaring, hands on hips. The next, Snapes fists where in Harry’s shirt and he was hauled against the adjacent wall, his toes barely touching the ground.

“I am NOT as bad as HIM!“ breathed Snape, his eyes flashing dangerously. “For a man like him, what happened was a mercy. He deserved much worse, and I would have been only too willing to give it to him.”

Harry tried to struggle, his hands holding firmly to Snape’s surprisingly firm biceps as he continued to hold Harry upright with extraordinary strength. “Lettt... me... down.” Harry managed to get out, the words getting stuck over the pressure starting to build in his throat. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to show any gratitude Potter, but don’t think to tar me with the same brush as someone like him. I was merely ensuring he was unable to force his despicable company on anyone else is all. Call it a public service.”

Snape dropped him to the ground, but didn’t let go. Harry took a deep breath, his anger dissipating. “Won’t they find out it was you?”

“Do not concern yourself on that front, I covered my tracks well enough. I have no connection, or motive. At least not one they know about.”

“Right” said Harry, looking anywhere but at Snape now. 

Snape seemed to remember he was still gripping Harry’s shirt and abruptly let go. “I presume you haven’t mentioned what happened to anyone else.”

“Of course not” said Harry, trying to brush the creases out of the front of his shirt. 

“Then everything will be fine Mr Potter” said Snape, pulling himself up to his full height just as Ron and Hermione came around the corner, halting at the sight of Harry and Snape and sending the pair glances from where they waited in the corridor. 

“Move along now Potter. You’ve wasted enough of my time” Snape muttered, before stalking down the corridor in the opposite direction and out of sight.

Harry found he was unable to move from where he stood, feeling as though Snape’s hands were still pinning him to the wall. He watched Snape walk away as he tried to comprehend what had happened, and what he’d just found out. Snape had hurt the man who had hurt Harry, and hurt him bad. Had put him in St Mungo’s, where he didn’t even know his own name. The thought alone should have made Harry sick to his stomach. What it certainly shouldn’t have done, was leave Harry painful aroused to the point he was throbbing in his trousers. He couldn’t explain it, it made no sense what so ever. Maybe it had been the forecfulness in which he had pushed Harry against the wall, or the possessiveness of the gesture, and the fact he clearly showed no remorse. Or maybe it was just the fact he hadn't got off in far too long. 

But what ever it had been, it had made Harry’s blood bubble with excitement. Snape had always had a commanding presence, but this was something else, this was personal, and if his bodies reaction was anything to go by, he liked it, oh he liked it a lot! 

He shook his head and pulled his cloak tightly around himself and headed towards Ron and Hernione and the million questions that were waiting for him. 

“What the hell was that all about?” asked Ron, as soon as Harry was in ear shot.

“Oh that” said Harry, gesturing over his shoulder. “That was just a misunderstanding.”

“It didn’t look like a misunderstanding” Said Hermione sceptically. “Did you know that man in the Daily Prophet.”

“What? No. What man?”

“The one you was looking at before you spilt milk all over the table and then stormed off to interrogate Snape” said Ron a little harshly.

“Oh him” said Harry unconvincingly. “No, no idea who he was.”

Hermione knew a lost cause when she saw one, especially when it came to Harry. He was a loyal friend but he always played his cards close to his chest. 

“Fine, keep your secrets” she said, hitching her bag on her shoulder and setting off for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Harry laughed, it sounded forced even to his own ears . “I’m not keeping any secrets Mione” he said, running to catch up with her.

Hermione and Ron didn’t speak to Harry until after DADA. They were sitting on the desks talking to Professor Lupin, who was finishing tidying up the classroom after today’s practical.

“I’m sorry we’ve not been able to catch up before now” said Remus apologetically. “I’ll admit I’d quite forgotten how intense the start of term can be. I’ve hardly had a moment to myself.”

“We understand” said Hermione sympathetically. 

“I imagine you three are being kept busy too.” Added Remus, coming to sit beside them. “Its not just the professor’s with the extensive work load this year I’m afraid.”

“Don’t get me started” groaned Ron. “I’ve not had a free evening all term.”

“What Ron means to say is we’re just happy to be back, and grateful for the opportunity to resit our exams” said Hermione, ignoring Ron’s protests.

“How about you Harry?” asked Remus. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

Harry had zoned out at some point and didn’t seem to be listening.

“Harry?”

“Sorry. What?“

Remus smiled one of his soft, polite smiles. “I asked if you were OK Harry, and speculated that you were very quiet today.”

“Oh, yeah I’m fine thanks Remus. Sorry.”

“Not at all Harry. Not at all. Minerva tells me you’ve been spending an awful lot of time in detention though Harry, with Professor Snape, I hope you’ve not been misbehaving?”

Harry grinned, humouring Remus. He was only looking out for Harry he knew that, but since Sirius had died Remus had become a little overbearing at times, believing it to be his responsibility to step into Sirius’ shoes. Which Harry neither desired nor needed.

“You know me Remus. Trouble has a way of finding me.”

Remus chuckled, before changing the subject. “How are you finding my lessons? Challenging enough? I know you’re a little more, advanced shall we say, then your classmates, but I had hoped that some of the material would challenge even you three.”

They spent the next hour discussing their classes, which they assured Remus were quite testing enough, and Remus updated them on proceedings at the ministry where Kingsley Shacklebolt had been newly elected as Minister. 

Hermione enquired politely after Remus’ health, which he insisted was strictly under control now that Snape was kindly agreeing to continue making his Wolfsbane every month. 

Harry drifted in and out of the rest of the conversation. His mind flitting back to the article in the prophet and Snape’s reaction meant he was struggling to keep his concentration. But if his mindlessness was noticed, no one mentioned it, and before long they all headed down for an early dinner before Charms. 

Snape was staring at him again at lunch, to the point where Harry was starting to feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t so much the staring that made him feel that way, it was the fact it had drawn Harry’s attention back to the man, and with it came the onslaught of inappropriate feelings from this morning. His hands had started sweating and he was particularly aware of how frequently he was swallowing. His heart was beating way too fast for someone eating a sandwich and he found his mouth kept drying out and he was finding it hard to chew.

“I’m going out for some air” said Harry standing up.

“Oh, ok” said Hermione, clearly unwilling to even attempt to stop him after this mornings debacle. “Do you want us to come with you? You don’t look too good.” 

“No, honestly I’m fine. I’ll not be long.” 

He headed outside where it was starting to rain, it felt pleasantly cool on his warm face as he turned his head to the clouds. He took a left out of the courtyard to shelter under some trees, looking around before lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag. He looked over at the grounds and then back up at the castle and smiled. Over the last few months being back at the school he had come to understand that he wouldn’t remember Hogwarts as merely the place of the final battle, it wouldn’t ever just be where hundreds of people had lost their life’s. It was his home, his first and forever home, and always would be. 

He had come to realise it was the only place he felt safe, the only place he belonged. Since coming back he had felt less lost and just a little less hopeless. Continuing to think along those lines, perhaps Snape had subconsciously become a part of that too. Part of the safety net. He’d known the man for seven years, they’d seen each other ever day and been though some pretty brutal shit together.

A jet black owl swooped down out of the sky interrupting Harry’s musings. It landed on a branch above his head and stuck it’s leg out obligingly so he could remove the note tied there. The moment he untied the scroll it took flight and Harry knew who’s owl it was almost instantly. 

Mr Potter,

If you were sincere last night in your acceptance of my help, please be kind enough to join me in my office tomorrow night at 8pm. I also ask you put out that cigarette I am going to presume is currently between your lips. It is a disgusting habit. 

S.S

Harry put the letter in his pocket, plucked the cigarette from his mouth and looked around suspiciously. How an earth did he even... Never mind. He considered doing as he was told, but then changed his mind. Snape could hardly claim to have any authority over Harry after what he'd admitted to doing, could he.

He took great pleasure in finishing his cigarette, putting two fingers up to Snape who Harry was convinced was watching him from some dark recess of the castle. So he wanted him to come to his office tomorrow. What an earth did Snape think he was going to be able to do, really. Well there was only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone again for sticking with me and an extra special thanks to you lovely people leaving me such nice comments, you know who you are! Promising you some further developments in chapter 10 seen as we are at the halfway mark! Hope you enjoyed.


	10. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll apologise in advance for this chapter, I'm not really feeling it but the more and more I redo it the less I like it, so I've decided to just post it and move on. So here it is, hope it's not too bad. Thanks for reading!

It was three hours until Harry was due in the dungeons to meet Snape, and he was starting to feel the familiar nerves that he’d begun to associate with seeing the snarky Potions Master that was Professor Snape. He’d not been able to eat anything at dinner as his stomach had been in knots all afternoon, so Harry did what Harry seemed to do best at the moment, he went looking for trouble. Against his better judgement he had spent the remainder of dinner staring threateningly at a group of 7th year Slytherin’s who, although a year younger then Harry, were a foot taller then him and nearly twice as wide. 

Ron and Hermione had gone to the library, which was code for going to find an empty classroom to do that which Harry preferred not to think about. Subsequently this had left Harry walking around the dungeons, which was probably not his best move after pissing off half of Slytherin. Some would say he had a death wish, they were probably right. 

It took all of ten minutes before Harry got the confrontation he’d been so blatantly asking for. He knew full well he would be provoking any Slytherin he saw just by being down here, but that was the fun wasn’t it? His heart had been trying to beat out of his chest all day and he needed some sort of distraction from his agitated mind. 

“Hey! Potter! What you doing down here?“ came a voice from behind him. 

Harry smiled before turning around. Finally he thought to himself, show time. 

“What’s it to you?” Harry asked, noting the familiar faces from the great hall. There was three of them, and the biggest of them stepped forward as he spoke. 

“You’re on our turf now Potter. You’ve no need to be down here unless you’re asking for trouble. Are you asking for trouble?” 

“Dunno” said Harry shrugging. “Maybe I am.”

The other two looked at each other a little warily. They might be Slytherin’s, and Harry might be a Gryffindor, but he was still the Chosen One, he’d still killed the Dark Lord. 

“Well you obviously got a problem with me and my boys” the Slytherin continued, cracking his knuckles threateningly. “Giving us looks all through dinner. What’s your problem Potter?”

“Maybe I was just enjoying the view” said Harry smiling sweetly. His eyes flicking up and down the boy. He was so far from his type it was laughable but this was a sure way of getting a rise out of any violently heterosexual man, and it was no different this time. 

He looked confused for a minute and Harry saw the exact moment when it clicked. He spluttered indignantly for a moment, going red before the anger returned ten fold. Definitely over compensating Harry thought to himself smugly. 

“You wanna say that again” he spat, now up in Harry’s face. His two friends inching further away. 

“I said, maybe, I was enjoying the view.”  
Harry stepped forward as he spoke, and then it happened, the Slytherin pulled back his arm and punched Harry square in the face. 

The two friends scarpered, leaving their friend looking a little regretful between his swelling knuckles and Harry, who was currently spitting blood. 

“You were asking for that” he said a little nervously. 

“Maybe I was” said Harry sneering, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “I could argue so were you,” and then before the Slytherin 7th year could even think to draw his wand Harry punched him, hard. He stumbled back, brought his hand to his nose which was now bleeding and a little crooked and then he lunged, and Harry’s over active brain was blissfully quiet for the whole five minutes it took for them to be found and broken up. 

They fought like muggles, with their bare hands, and it was exactly what Harry needed. It seemed unlikely he was going to get the other sort of relief he’d become dependent on, but this was a close runner up he thought to himself as he sunk a particular vicious punch into the boys ribs and got a rapidly forming black eye for his troubles. 

Harry was dragged to his feet, his head throbbing and his mouth still dripping blood, his glasses long since broken and trampled on the ground. He could have put a stop to this in seconds if he wished, wand or not, he hadn’t needed his wand to perform most magic for months now. But where was the fun in that he thought, as his blood throbbed heavily in his veins and he breathed out in sharp pants. The boy had got his hands around Harry’s throat, and Harry was laughing a little hysterically just as Snape came around the corner at a run, the Slytherin’s two friends trailing guilty behind him.

Snape pulled out his wand and they were pulled instantly apart. The Slytherin boy was flung down the hall where he lay sprawled and winded on his back. Harry slumped against the wall slightly, still laughing and wiping the blood from his mouth and nose. 

Snape looked livid as he stood glaring at the pair of them. “Bell, Smith, take Mr Matthew’s to the infirmary! I’ll deal with him later. Potter, congratulations you’ve just prolonged your detention. With me, now!”

Harry sighed before following, stopping to receive his glasses which Snape had repaired and thrust back at him. At least he could deal with this Snape. Angry, shouting Snape was familiar, comforting almost, he was used to that. It was the soft, sensitive side that was dangerous. 

Their walk through the dungeons was short, and Snape didn’t speak until they were both inside his office and the door was closed and warded. 

“Its just never enough with you Potter is it” said Snape from behind his desk, the anger from the corridor now absent from his voice. “Are you really that determined to ignore your problems that you need to create more? Mr Bell enlightened me as to what you said to Mr Matthews, you goaded him didn’t you? Provoked him into hitting you. I feel as though nothing can surprise me with you anymore, yet it still astounds me the lengths you go to, just to feel something else. Anything else.”

Harry stood motionless in the middle of the office as Snape came around his desk and sat on its edge. He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed in exasperation, looking pityingly at Harry. Why did Harry feel like he was being chastised by a parent. He felt guilty, like he’d let Snape down. 

“The drinking and smoking, the tattoos, yes I’ve heard the rumours Potter. The sleeping around, the starting fights. What’s next? Are you really so determined to keep punishing yourself. This isn’t you Potter. This isn’t who you are.”

“Don’t pretend to know me” said Harry angrily. 

“I sometimes think I know you better then you know yourself. You need to face reality Potter. I asked you here to help you. But I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself!” 

“I’m scared okay!” said Harry with more force then intended. “I want you to help me, I want to let you in, and that fucking terrifies me more then any of it.”

Snape’s eye’s widened in surprise at Harry’s honesty, he’d expected his usual defiance, not this. 

“You happy now?” asked Harry defeated, coming to sit in the chair before Snape, his head hanging and still dripping blood. 

“Oh ecstatic” said Snape with his usual sarcasm. 

“Come here” he said, motioning for Harry to move his chair closer. 

Harry came, feeling a sense of déjà vu as Snape touched his wand to his injuries in very much the same way he had done after his run in with Malfoy. He touched his wand gently to Harry’s eye, and he felt the skin knit back together and the bruising subside. He did the same with his jaw before summoning some murtlap for his lip.

“This pain, this hurt, this anger, it won’t make you happy” said Snape with surprising sincerity as he brought the cloth up to Harry’s lip. “It’s a distraction, nothing more.”

“It helps” said Harry bitterly. 

“You’re doing it again Potter” said Snape with a sigh. “You accept you need help, but then in the next breath you try and rationalise what it is you are doing. You know it’s not helpful, you know this dependency is unhealthy, that it doesn’t make you feel any better.”

Harry looked quizzically down at Snape, suddenly realising how close he was sitting. Close enough that he could feel Snape’s breath against his neck as he cleaned his lip. He shivered slightly, goose bumps springing up along his skin. He could also smell the familiar scent that he’d started to associate with Snape. He smelt like leather, rich and earthy with a slight sweet scent, combined with the undertones of strong coffee as he breathed across Harry’s exposed skin. 

Harry gripped Snape’s fingers as they lingered on his lip. Snape surprised by the coarseness of the three day old stubble that dragged across the pads of his fingers. 

“You see right though me” said Harry, meeting Snape’s gaze with an intensity he had never seen before. His gaze seemed to pierce through the dark shadows of the dungeons, the green of Harry’s iris’ a dazzling contrast to his dark pupil’s. 

“It unnerves me” Harry whispered. Not breaking his gaze. 

“Do you not want to be seen?” asked Snape, unable to look away. 

“I don’t know” Harry said, sounding suddenly scared. “I don’t know what I want, what I need, not really.”

Snape was taken aback by the torment in his voice, and even more so by his own desperate desire to fix him.

Harry inhaled deeply, finding himself comforted by Snape’s smell, his voice, his presence. As his head swam he realised with crippling clarity what he needed. “What if I told you, that I need you.”

Snape’s breath hitched slightly at the implications, Snape knew Harry wasn’t above using sex to get what he wanted, but Snape didn’t think that was what he was insinuating this time. 

He lowered his hand where Harry was still grasping his fingers firmly and folded his other hand over them, now holding Harry’s hand between both of his own .

Harrys face was so open and honest in that moment, like just admitting this had lessened the load of his troubled mind. He looked older, more mature as his brow furrowed expectantly. 

“Then I will continue to be at your service Mr Potter” answered Snape finally, his voice now steady. “As I have always been. But to allow me to do so you need to stop with the self sabotage, stop driving everyone away.” 

“I don’t know how” said Harry. Letting go of Snape’s fingers and dropping his face into his hands. “The violence, the fighting, even the sex, it makes me feel alive, its addictive. Its compulsive. Its... Its something.”

“It’s dangerous” said Snape. "It’s reckless, and foolhardy, and it will bring you nothing but trouble.”

“Then make me feel something else!” said Harry sitting up suddenly, a fierceness now flaring in his eyes as Snape started to question Harry’s initial intentions. 

“No” said Snape simply, taking a step back. “Not in the way you want.” 

“Please” said Harry, getting to his feet. 

“You said it was dangerous. But with you, I’d be safe. You said you would help.”

“Not like this” said Snape a little panicked, swallowing heavily. 

Admittedly Harry’s pleading had struck a cord somewhere deep within him, somewhere he refused to think about. He wanted nothing more then to give him what he wanted, especial if it stopped him from looking for what he thought he needed else wear, but he couldn’t do it. Harry was eighteen, and still a student. And well he was Harry Potter for fuck sake, and he was Severus Snape, ex death eater, he knew exactly how it looked. It was stupid, and foolish to even think about it, but it still didn’t stop Snape. He envisioned what it would be like to grasp Potter firmly around the neck and push him hard over his desk, discipline him like he so clearly wanted. Like he needed. Make him forget all the pain and the suffering. Make him think of nothing but Severus and what he could give him. He was drifting into dangerous territory and Snape snapped himself out of it quickly. 

“I’m sorry” said Harry sitting back down.” I just feel so out of control, I just don’t know what else to do.”

“It’s OK” said Snape, breathing a sigh of relief as he stepped behind his desk, instantly feeling a little safer with the distance of the desk between them. Unsure whether he was protecting himself from Harry’s advances or Harry from his. 

He got out the decanter from the cupboard and poured them both a drink. Harry knocking it back before wordlessly asking for another, Snape foolishly obliging. They drank in silence for a while before Harry spoke again. The alcohol fuelling his honesty. 

“It makes me feel worse if anything.” 

“What does?”

“The sex” said Harry directly. 

Snape looked up at Harry’s dejected face in confusion. “Why?” 

“Cross purposes.” 

“I don’t understand” said Snape, putting down his glass. 

Harry sighed as though starting to regret bringing it up. “It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. Anything you say will not leave this room, I can assure you. If you want me to help, I need to know.”

Harry looked up at Snape as though questioning the truth behind that statement, deciding Snape had no reason to lie he continued. 

“I dunno, it’s just, they always seem reluctant to take me seriously. I ask for things. They think I’m joking. I go into it for me, hoping to...” Harry hesitated, fiddling with the hem of his robe before continuing. “I dunno... hoping to get what I need I suppose, but I don’t. They don’t give me what I need.” 

Snape suddenly forgot how to breath. The thought of Harry being left desperate and wanting. His needs being ignored in favour of his partners. He was the world’s saviour, he should be given everything he wanted and more. He deserved that at least.

“If I thought it would truly help, then I would do it” said Snape darkly.

“Do what?” asked Harry, his brow furrowed again in a way that inexplicably made Snape's cold black heart stutter. 

“Everything” answered Snape. “I’d give you what you needed, what you wanted. I’d fuck you if I thought it would really make you happy, I’d hold you down till it hurts. I’d make you give up control. Make you beg for it, if I thought for a single moment it would help.”

Harrys eyes shot up to Snape’s, his pupils were blown wide and his breathing a little laboured, then Snape suddenly realised he’d said the wrong thing. He meant to reassure him, or maybe put a bit of fear into him. Now not only was Snape imagining doing those things to Harry, but he was now imagining Snape doing them to him, and it seemed that Snape wasn’t the only one coming around to the idea. 

“But it wouldn’t” said Snape hurriedly, trying to limit the damage. “It wouldn’t help.” 

He stood with a flourish of robes in an attempt to put as much space between the two of them as possible. They were suddenly playing a very dangerous game and Snape was treading on very thin ice. He was pensive for a minute as he considered how to proceed. Harry was a student, so that meant he wouldn’t touch him no matter how prettily he begged. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give him some of what he wanted. Snape would be helping him after all, saving him from himself. Snape knew how pathetic that sounded to even his own ears as he tried to justify what he was about to do. But he ploughed on regardless. 

“Do you trust me?” Snape asked, his back now to Harry but his tone firm and authoritative. When Harry didn’t answer he turned to meet his eye. 

Harry held is gaze as he deliberated. “Yes. “ 

“Then let me help you. Lets stop this game of cat and mouse you keep playing. You're the only one who’s going to get hurt. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Before you commit yourself to a life of misery, at least give yourself the chance to be happy.”

“You mean like you have!”snapped Harry disapprovingly, refusing to look away even as he was treat to Snape’s best glare. 

“It’s too late for some of us. What is it they say, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

Snape laughed, it sounded hollow. Harry thought there was very little about that statement he found funny. 

“You’re not old” said Harry with conviction. 

“I’m old enough to be your father" Snape replied matter of factly. 

“You should have thought of that when you offered to fuck me Professor” said Harry smiling innocently.

“I did no such thing! “hissed Snape, heat flaring in his cheeks. 

Harry laughed, this time it was genuine. “I’m joking Sir, sorry. Just trying to defuse the tension.” 

Snape relaxed slightly and sank back into his chair. “You go around saying things like that and I’ll be out of this castle quicker then you can say Jack Robinson.”

“Who’s jack Robinson?“ said Harry frowning. 

“It’s a figure of speech Potter” said Snape shaking his head. “Are you taught nothing in this school.”

Harry smiled again and as his eyes lit up any further thoughts of chastisement flew straight out of Snape’s head. 

“We are both adults in the eyes of the law, but any time we spend together outside of lessons which is not documented will be seen as improper. I am however, willing to take that risk, in order to help you, do not make me regret that Potter.”

“I won’t" 

“If you feel disconnected, out of control, you come to me, and no one else, understand. We’ll find a way though it. I’ll be working in my office every evening apart from Mondays and Fridays, when I will unfortunately be otherwise engaged, patrolling the corridors, looking for.. rule breakers.” Snape said this last part looking pointedly at Harry with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“I’ll see you then than shall I?” said Harry cheekily. 

“Undoubtedly” said Snape, a slight quirk to his lips. “Please try to keep the trouble to a minimum though Mr Potter. Any more fights, or midnight rendezvous’, will have to be a matter of record. I would hate to be seen to be expressing, favouritism.”

Harry scoffed. “Favouritism. You?”

“It’s been known.”

“Yeah, maybe if you're in Slytherin” said Harry, helping himself to another drink. Snape looked at him disapprovingly but not disapprovingly enough to stop him.

“I could be persuaded to make an exception.” 

“Could you?” said Harry, his eyes glinting mischievously. 

Snape couldn’t seem to help himself, he was flirting with Harry Potter and they both knew it. But it seemed to be the only thing that pulled him from his despair. The only times he seemed to smile. That was the only reason he was doing it Snape told himself firmly. There was most definitely no other reason. 

A few hours later Snape sat in his quarters, staring into the crackling fire, already through half a bottle of his best scotch. Potters face swimming before his eyes, his pupils dilated, his breath ragged as Snape told him in no uncertain terms that he would be quite happy to fuck him into next week if he asked. The idea had definitely excited Potter, for reasons unknown to Snape. He knew Potter gravitated towards older men from what he’d witnessed, but surely he still found him as detestable as ever, even with this recent revelation. Definite daddy issues Snape thought to himself suppressing a shudder. Oh we was going to hell he thought, knocking back the rest of his drink and falling into an uneasy sleep filled with green eyes, tanned skin and messy black hair. 

Eight floors above the dungeons Harry lay in bed, a slight but satisfied smile on his face. He thought about tonight and felt a thrill of excitement. If Harry had been asked to describe Snape with a single word he would never in a million years have said safe. But it’s what he felt. He made him feel safe, he made him feel important, and if Snape said he would fix him, then he would. He had decided in that moment to stop looking for trouble, for he'd discovered another distraction. A much better distraction. He was going to seduce Severus Snape. 


	11. We should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I enjoyed writing this chapter way more then the last, hence my eagerness to post it even though it's a little short. I promise to make up for it in the next chapter which is already looking to be a lot longer. Thanks again you lovely lot for reading, and keep the love coming.

If asked if Harry was curious by nature, he would have answered unequivocally no. He never stopped to question, or to wonder, and when it came to other people, he just didn’t find them all that interesting. But when it came to Severus Snape, it would seem they had broke the mould. He had piqued a curiosity in Harry, a curiosity that he never knew existed until now and which had found him both watching and wondering. 

This was a man who until very recently Harry had seen as nothing more then a hateful silhouette of a being. Snape wasn’t the sort of person you could easily humanise. He wasn’t civilised, he showed no weaknesses, and until recently had seemed to care for nothing or no one but himself. But now it was like someone had switched on the light and illuminated Snape in all his spectacular, hateful glory, and unbeknown to him the cracks had started to open and a river of humanity was spilling out. 

For the first time Harry now wondered what went off in the mind of someone like Severus Snape. What he thought about in his darkest, quietest hours, and what made a person like Snape tick. As tempting as Harry had discovered Snape’s mind to be, he would be lying if he said it was the only part of Snape he had designs on. He was eighteen after all. He found himself imagining what was hidden beneath those layers and layers of black fabric, how pale that skin would be, skin that had never seen the light of day. He thought about Snape showering before lessons, wet and naked, his head turned to the spray and the water caressing his body. He imagined the dark hair that would cover his chest and underarms and the tantalising trail leading down from his naval to his cock. He wondered if he ever touched himself, and what a man like Snape thought about. Snape was a complex sort of man and Harry suspected that applied to every aspect of his life. It would be intense he thought to himself, Snape was known for his self restraint and Harry was certainly looking forward to testing that.

“Harry... HARRY!” 

“Sorry, what?” said Harry, looking up at Ron and Hermione who had been trying to get his attention. 

“Earth to Harry, you in there” said Ron, with a smirk. “I said, who do you think they are, speaking to Snape?” 

Harry looked up and his stomach dropped, there was three ministry officials grouped by the doors to the Great Hall, talking in hushed whispers with Snape who looked far too calm for a man being interrogated. 

“What do you think they want?” added Hermione, sitting up straighter in an attempt to get a better look. 

“Carting him off to Azkaban I hope” said Ron cheerfully, craning his neck. “It was a joke!” Ron added at Harrys look of horror, unaware how close to the truth that possibly was. 

They watched on as they each shook Snape’s hand and turned to leave. Snape remained where he was until they were out of sight and then turned back towards the Great Hall, his dark eyes scanning the room. He found what he was looking for and after catching Harry’s eye he beckoned him over with a jerk of his head.

“Harry, what ever trouble he’s in, just remember you don’t owe him anything” said Hermione, looking with confusion between the two of them. 

“It’s nothing like that” said Harry, already half way out of his seat. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He was very aware of his own limbs as he walked between the tables towards Snape. Walking was something he’d never thought about doing any more then he thought about breathing or blinking, but he suddenly felt far too conscious of the speed he was walking and how stiff his arms felt at his sides. 

In what could have been ten seconds or ten minutes Harry stepped out of the Great Hall and was directed down the side of the staircase out of sight. 

“Who were they? What did they want?” asked Harry quickly. 

“Christ Potter, could you look or sound any more suspicious!” hissed Snape, his arms crossed across his chest. “They were ministry officials, enquiring if I’d had any suspicious commissions of illegal potions. I ensured them, I had not.”

“Wait, What? So they never suspected YOU? Not even for a minute?” 

“You sound surprised” Snape drawled, eyebrow raised in amusement. 

“Well you were a Death Eater” said Harry bluntly. 

“Indeed” said Snape frowning. 

“It doesn’t bother me you know” said Harry a little abashed, as he shifted from one foot to the other. 

“That I was a Death Eater? Or that I mutilated your attacker?” 

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. “Both.”

“Thank goodness for your understanding Potter, I hardly know how I would have continued living without it.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Funny.”

“Breakfast is nearly over. You’d do well to return to your table. My schedule is clear this evening, if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Professor. For everything” Harry said, moving back towards the noise of the hall. “I might take you up on that offer.” 

“It wasn’t an offer Potter.”

“Sure it wasn’t” said Harry grinning. 

The rest of the morning passed as Harry had expected, with Ron and Hermione bombarding him with questions. Harry had given them some made up story about Snape’s order of Merlin being revoked but wasn’t entirely sure they’d believed him. “But what’s that got to do with you?” Ron had asked. “Well, erm, nothing really, but they’d been throwing my name around... and I needed to clear some things up.”

They finally let it drop at lunch, after Harry snapped at Ron to mind his own business and they had eaten the remainder of their sandwiches in silence. They were used to Harry’s changes in mood, it wasn’t uncommon these days for them to be arguing at breakfast and best friends again by dinner. It was probably for the best, as it meant that they hardly batted an eyelid when Harry got up from his chair in the common room at 8 o clock and told them he had things to do. By things, he of course meant Snape, but he could hardly tell them that. 

He went up to the dormitory to shower and drop off his school bag. He resisted the temptation to overdo the cologne, Snape would spot someone trying too hard a mile off and Harry didn’t want to give him the ammunition. He put on a pair of worn jeans and what he’d come to think of as his pulling shirt, which was tight enough to be just the right-side of obvious. He tucked his jeans into his dragon hide boots and pulled on a cloak. He gave himself a once over in the mirror before he left, his hair was still damp but he refrained from a drying spell and just brushed it back. It looked good. 

Ron and Hermione glanced uneasily in his direction as he emerged back into the common room and headed over to the portrait hole, but if they thought anything amiss they kept it to themselves and Harry emerged onto the seventh floor without incident. 

It was a while until curfew but he still kept looking around a little nervously as he made his way to the dungeons. He saw no one, and in a surprisingly short space of time was standing outside the familiar door to Snape’s office. The corridor outside was dark and Harry could see the flicker of a candle from beneath the door. He took a deep breath and knocked. He waited a moment in the silence that followed and was just about to raise his hand again when Snape’s familiar voice called out. “Enter!” 

“I wondered how long it would take you to slither down here” said Snape from behind his desk, his eyes never leaving his papers. 

“You did invite me” Harry said, closing the door and stepping into the room. 

“You make it sound like a dinner date Potter.”

“Oh, is it not?” said Harry in mock surprise. “I just thought with the candles and everything.”

Snape finally looked up to glare at Harry, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk as he put down his quill and stacked up his papers. “Yet you came without wine. Yet again you continue to disappoint me Mr Potter.”

“Well it pays to be consistent” said Harry, his face hardening a little. He sat down and took out his cigarettes, he’d not had one since this morning and was starting to feel irritable. He looked up at Snape as he pulled one from the packet and seeing no sign of any impending hostility put it between his lips and lit it. 

Snape watched through narrowed eyes as Harry breathed in, the cigarette held loosely between two fingers as his cheeks hollowed and then his lips parted to let out the cloud of smoke. Harry repeated the motion, this time making a noise of contentment as he exhaled, his eyes closing briefly as his body visibly relaxed. 

Snape’s stomach did a flip, Potter had absolutely no right to look that good smoking a cigarette. Harry paused for a moment to undo the clasp of his robe before pushing back the material from his shoulders. Snape’s mouth went a little dry as he took in the pull of the buttons across his chest and the way the collar gaped open showing far too much clavicle. Snape thought about what that collar bone would taste like, and the noises he would make if he was to drag his teeth across it just right. He glanced back up at Harry’s face where he was watching Snape with a knowing smile, that damn cigarette back between his lips. 

Snape looked away, shuffled his stacked papers conspicuously and cleared his dry throat. Who the hell was this smirking harlot sat across from him, because it certainly wasn’t the Harry Potter he knew. 

“So how’s this going to work?” Harry asked a little uncertainly. 

“However you want it to work. You can use this space as you need. To study, to do homework, and if you want to talk we talk, if you don’t we don’t. Again, I will stress that anything we discuss will be kept strictly between the two of us.”

“Okay, but what am I to tell the others. I mean there going to ask, where I’m going. Who I’m seeing.”

“They never questioned your frequent rendezvous with Headmaster Dumbledore did they?” 

“Well, no” said Harry smiling, “but you see the current headmaster, he has form.”

“Charmed” said Snape huffing. “So your little friends were more then happy for you to skip off after horcruxes with Albus every night, but any meeting we might have would undoubtedly be filled with dark purposes and twisted intentions?” 

“Are you saying they won’t be?” said Harry suggestively. 

“Yes, I’m saying they won’t be, and you’d do well to be in agreement unless you want them to think just that.” 

“Let them think what they want” said Harry shrugging. He took a last drag of his rapidly burning cigarette before disposing of it. 

“I say this not to protect my own ruined reputation Potter. Associating, after curfew, with a homosexual Ex-Death Eater who is more then twice your age, is likely to tarnish even your glowing character.”

“Is that because people might presume you want to kill me, or that you might want to fuck me?” asked Harry, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

Snape’s nostrils flared as his blood pounded noisily in his ears. His palms suddenly sweaty and his pulse quickening. He was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it. Dragged from the brink of death just to kill him all over again. He’d spent years as a spy, deceiving the most powerful Dark Lord the world had ever known, yet he was reduced to a quivering mess by an over eager teenage boy. 

“Do you think they would be more, or less concerned if they knew I was gay too?” 

“You could take out an article in the Daily Prophet declaring your undying love for me, and guess what, they would still blame me. Its the way of the world Potter, get used to it.”

“I’m the saviour of the Wizarding World though remember, I should get what I want” said Harry in a mock sulk. 

“And that should include your snarky old potions professor should it?” asked Snape, uncertain if Harry was still dissimulating. 

“Yeah. It should” replied Harry, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue as he looked Snape over approvingly. 

“Potter, stop it” said Snape, his voice sharp yet pleading. 

“Stop what?”

“This” answered Snape, gesturing between them. “Whatever game this is you're playing still to avoid talking about how you feel.”

“You seem determined to believe its just a game” said Harry, draping an arm over the back of his chair, his shirt buttons straining precariously. 

“And what’s the alternative?” Snape retorted, now standing, his hands braced on the table. “That you genuinely find me attractive, that you find THIS attractive.” Snape looked down at himself, colour rising to his pale cheeks. “You expect me to believe that this half hearted attempt at seduction is a bid to actually get me into bed. You honestly expect me to believe that.” 

Harry stood up, his robe slipping off completely and sliding onto the floor. He moved towards Snape until he was flush with the table, laying his hands beside his on the hard wood. 

“That’s precisely what I expect you to believe” said Harry, his hand now touching Snape’s. He ran a finger tip along the sensitive skin between Snape’s thumb and forefinger and took great pleasure in the way Snape's jaw tightened. Snape watched helplessly as Harry’s free hand covered his other but made no attempt to stop him. 

“It would be extremely ill advised for you to get involved with a man like me.”

“Why?” said Harry. “In case I get hurt? It may have escaped your notice, but I’m already hurting.”

“I’m not a nice man.” Snape argued, as Harry lent forward, his intentions now clear. 

“I don’t want, nice” Harry whispered. 

“Don’t do this” Snape implored with the last of his remaining resistance. 

“Why?“ said Harry, now close enough that Snape could count every one of those ridiculously long eyelashes. 

There was a million and one reasons why they shouldn’t do this, but with Harry this close, Snape couldn’t think of a single one. He held his breath as Harry looked between Snape’s eyes and his mouth, hesitating in anticipation of the rejection that Snape wished he only had the strength to summon. Making up his mind Harry closed the gap between them and their lips finally met, and Snape, 38 years of age, and who claimed not only to be a man of the world, but well educated and experienced in what life had to offer; saw stars.


	12. Power was my weakness and my temptation

Contrary to the tongue which was licking at the roof of Severus’ mouth he had kissed only a handful of people throughout his life. This was mostly though choice, kissing was intimate and required a familiarity to which his was unaccustomed to. 

When it came to sex, with Severus it was quick and to the point. His lovers, for want of a better word, were a means to an end, nothing more. He had never had a relationship, never experienced the domesticity of living with another human being, had never needed to think about any one else’s needs but his own, and for the most part that had suited him just fine. It wasn’t that he was against the idea per se, it was mostly down to the circumstance that he was yet to meet anyone that he could even imagine ever wanting those things with. 

He’d often wondered what it would be like to wake up with someone beside him, to have someone to come home to at the end of a particularly hard day. Someone to share his passions and interests, to challenge him, to keep him on his toes. But the older Severus became it seemed less and less likely this ideal would, or could be obtained. He was a man stuck in his ways, and years of misery and pain had left him bitter and bad tempered. 

Even if fate did smile on him and he happened upon someone worth the committal, he often wondered what they could possibly see in him. He wasn’t wealthy or attractive, he wasn’t funny or charming, or even pleasant to be around. He was angry and resentful, with a sadistic streak. It was a wonder they weren’t queueing around the block really. 

Current company excluded, he’d rarely been kissed freely. He’d made it impossible over the years for anyone to like him, so it had come as a surprise that anyone, especially Harry Potter of all people, was now gripping the front of his robes like his life depended on it and kissing him within an inch of his life.

The kiss was fierce and a little brutal, as though Harry was trying to rid himself of every negative thought and feeling by pouring then into Severus’ willing body. It was raw and desperate and just a little bit needy. The fingers that were clutching at his chest kept clenching and un-clenching as though Harry was scared Snape might still change his mind and push him away. Seemingly pacified for the moment he let up slightly and a hand wandered upwards to brush his fingers tentatively against Severus’ cheek. He slowed his pace before stopping, withdrawing slightly, his hands still on Snape as he opened his eyes with a look of uncertainty to gauge his reaction. They were both breathing heavily, Snape was looking down at his hands which were still braced firmly on the desk, his knuckles now a little white.

Harry hesitated for a moment holding his breath, then Snape looked up and it would have been impossible to misinterpret how Snape felt in that moment. His pupils which were blown wide seemed to engulf his entire eye in darkness as he looked at Harry with a near feral hunger. Harry swallowed visibly, his pulse pounding heavily in his jaw, no one had ever looked at him the way Snape was doing right now, with such lust and longing. A flush of red was visible upon Snape’s neck, running from his ear and disappearing beneath that ridiculously high collar. Harry had wondered for longer then he cared to admit what Snape would look like in the throes of passion, open, his guard down, his reserve breaking, and it seemed all Harry had to do was give him just one kiss. 

Snape watched him, unblinking, and for a moment Harry thought he was going to step away, but then a hand shot forward grasping Harry firmly around the back of the neck and almost pulling him over the desk in his impatience to get back to his mouth. 

This time Snape didn’t hold back, it was vulgar and indecent, tongues and teeth and hands grabbing with years of unresolved tension. The quiet of the dungeons echoed with Snape’s growls and Harry’s wanton whimpers as Harry climbed a little clumsily onto the desk, shuffling forward he deposited himself before Snape, his legs now either side of his body. Then Harry leant forward, wrapping both arms around Snape’s neck and pressing every inch of himself against his chest. Severus felt two firm thighs holding him firmly in place as one of Harry’s hands moved with purpose down his back.

He kissed a trail down Harry’s neck, pausing to scrape his teeth over that taunting collarbone and smirking as it triggered his whole body to shudder. Frantic hands were now pulling at Snape’s robes, and after a few moments of futile tugging Snape felt the faint pull of magic as his robe unfastened itself all the way down to the knee.

Snape huffed with amusement into Harry’s neck causing another shiver and a pleased hum. “Heaven forbid your wandless magic should go to waste” muttered Snape, standing up to let his robe fall off his shoulders to join Harry’s on the stone floor.

Harry looked up at Snape who was still taller then him despite him sitting on the desk. His lips were red and glistening and his face was flushed. Severus wasn’t particular tall, but luckily for him Harry was particularly short which gave him the distinct advantage of always being able to look down at him, something he was rather looking forward to exploiting. 

Harrys eyes glinted with amusement as though guessing what Snape was thinking. He glanced down, briefly breaking their eye contact as Snape suddenly found not only the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt now undoing themselves, but his trousers and zipper too.

Harry sat back to admire his work, smiling broadly at Snape’s slightly shocked expression. “As you said Professor, I’d hate for all my hard work to go to waste.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I taught you wandless magic Potter” said Snape amused.

Harry scooted forward on the desk to allow him to grasp the ends of Snape’s now open waistcoat and pull him closer. Snape came willingly, allowing Harry to mouth up his bare chest and attach his mouth to his right earlobe, causing Snape to make a noise far too close to a whimper for his liking. Harry pulled back slightly to whisper directly into Snape’s ear. “This is exactly what you had in mind.”

“Oh of course Mr Potter, hours of your painful company just in anticipation of..” 

Harry cut him off before he could finish his sentence, sucking Snape’s bottom lip into his mouth and sliding his palms up his chest, intentionally catching his nipples as he brought his hands up to push the waistcoat and shirt off his slim shoulders. 

Snape caught both wrists before pulling back. “Leave them on.” 

“Why?” asked Harry distracted, running his fingers along the flush of red at Snape’s throat. 

“Do you need a reason?” 

“Kinda” said Harry, his hands creeping back under the shoulders of his shirt as he looked appreciatively at Snape’s chest. It was just how he imagined, thin but muscled, his skin pale and covered in a spattering of dark hair. When he moved, the candle light illuminated silvery scars which covered vast portions of his torso. Harry could tell by the stiffness in Snape’s voice and his reluctance to remove his clothes that he was ashamed, and for a moment he was reminded of the scars that covered Malfoy’s body and wondered what horrid things Snape likely endured all those years ago for his ‘initiation’. Or maybe Snape just wanted to keep his dark mark out of sight. What ever the reason Harry was determined that his scars would soon be the last thing on his mind. 

Harry slipped off the desk to place his hands upon Snape’s narrow hips, he turned them around until the back of Snape’s legs hit the desk and Harry pushed him back against the wood with enough force to knock him onto his back. Severus opened his mouth to protest, but the words got lost in his throat as Harry’s tongue licked a stripe up his hip and across one of the worst of his scars. The skin was overly sensitive and Snape shivered. “Potter” Snape warned. 

Harry smirked, looking down at Snape’s gaping fly and the start of what looked like a pretty promising erection. He mouthed over Snape’s stomach which was surprisingly soft with what little fat Snape’s body possessed and proceeded to trace a scar with his mouth right down to the waistband of Snape’s regulation briefs. He looked up at Snape who was propped on his elbows watching Harry’s movements over his own heaving chest, a slightly dazed expression on his face. Harry lowered his head and Snape felt hot, damp breath on his cock which twitched visibly beneath the tight black cotton, before Harry’s warm, wet mouth followed and Snape’s head hit the wood with a loud thud. 

Severus exhaled loudly as he closed his eyes with a groan, feeling Harry’s lips quirking in what was most certainly another smirk. He was just about to tell him to stop with the gloating and make himself useful when he heard the loud click of heels in the corridor outside. Snape sat up suddenly, Harry who had been otherwise occupied and hadn’t heard the footsteps looked up at him in confusion. 

“Shit! Potter, someone’s coming. Hide.”

“Hide?” Harry hissed. 

“Yes. Hide!” 

“But.. But where?” Harry whispered panicked, looking around the office.

“I don’t know. Anywhere.” Snape answered climbing off the desk and fastening up his trousers. He hurried over to his wand which he was embarrassed to note had somehow been discarded on the floor, so much for constant vigilance. The footsteps were getting louder and Harry stared in horror at the door as the knob began to turn. 

Unconsciously Harry managed to send a book shelf sliding across the wall to partially block the unlocked door. Snape cursed inwardly, not only had he abandoned his wand the moment Potter had made his move but he’d left the door unlocked and unwarded, anyone could have just walked in, which it seemed someone was now trying to do. 

The door opened an inch or two and banged loudly against the book shelf. A muffled noise of surprise sounding through the gap. 

“Severus?” came Professor McGonagall’s voice. “Are you in there?”

Harry looked at Snape in panic. “Just a moment Minerva” Snape answered, his voice a little strangled.

“Is everything okay?“

“Yes, Yes I’m coming.”

Snape pointed his wand at his still bare chest and the buttons started to fasten themselves. Harry was still stood frozen behind the desk as Minerva tried the door again and the bookshelf budged slightly. Professor McGonagall’s wand arm appeared around the door just as Snape put a hand on Harry’s head and forced him into the gap below the desk, sitting down in the chair and pulling a stack of papers towards him, his heart still beating madly in his chest. 

The bookcase was levitated to the side and McGonagall barged her way in. Looking around the room and back to the bookcase in bewilderment. 

“What ever happened Severus?” 

“My apologies Minerva, I was sorting out some books and seem to have wrongly replaced the bookcase, let me fix that.”

Snape flicked his wand and the bookcase moved four feet to the left and back to its original place. 

Minerva cleared her throat and stepped further into the room. She sniffed loudly before speaking. “Can I smell cigarette smoke Severus. You haven’t started up again have you? You know how hard it was for you to quit.”

Snape heard Harry’s outraged inhale at this revelation and Snape kicked him under the table. He’d rather Harry not have heard that. 

“It’s Potter” Snape said smugly, as Harry held his breath. 

“Sorry?” asked Minerva in surprise. 

“Smoking” said Snape casually. “He’s just finished serving his detention for it actually. You must have just missed him.” 

“What ever do you mean Severus. Harry? smoking? Where ever has he picked that up? Surely not with the muggles.”

“I rather think it was influences closer to home” drawled Snape. 

“Well as his head of house I’ll be having words” said Minerva outraged. 

“Of course” said Snape victoriously. A victory that would be short lived however. 

“Was there something you needed? “ asked Severus trying to ignore the fingers that were now creeping ever so slowly up the inside of his leg. 

“Yes there was” said Professor McGonagall taking a seat in front of Snape’s desk. 

“Oh, it looks like young Mr Potter has left behind his cloak” said McGonagall bending down to scoop it up. “I’ll see that he gets it back.”

She shrunk down the cloak and tucked it into a pocket before turning to address Snape who was feeling lucky a cloak was all “young Mr Potter” had left behind. 

“I came to enquire about the Ministry officials that visited us at breakfast Severus. They didn’t stay very long, am I right to assume that I should be unconcerned.” 

“Quite right, Minerva” Snape answered, fidgeting slightly as those wandering fingers danced around his balls through the wool of his trousers. 

“You seem restless, are you sure everything is okay?”

“Quite sure” Snape answered through gritted teeth. 

He risked a glance beneath the table and caught a glimpse of Harry who was looking far too pleased with himself. This was clearly pay back for outing him to his head of house. He raised his eyebrows at Snape in challenge, before his left hand came up to join the other which was now stroking precariously close to his returning erection. 

He snapped his eyes back up to Minerva, his fingernails now biting into the wood of his desk where he was gripping the edge too hard. 

“They were asking questions about the missing wizard in St Mungo’s.”

“The one poisoned? Surely they don’t suspect you Severus?” asked Minerva shocked. 

“No, not me. They wondered whether someone may have requested a commission, for the potion they believe was used in the attack. I assured them they had not.”

Snape finished his sentence on a slight grimace, as Harry’s fingers closed around his cock, squeezing slightly before letting go. 

“Thank goodness for that. Well I won’t take up anymore of your time Severus, if you see Mr Potter before I do, please ask him to come and see me in my office, we have some things to discuss.”

“Of course. Goodnight Minerva.”

“Goodnight Severus.”

Severus counted the nine agonising seconds it took for Professor McGonagall to reach the door and for it to click closed behind her. He then cast the strongest locking and warding spell he knew before reaching under the desk, grabbing Harry by the front of his shirt and throwing him down on its surface, all the while that smug smirk still on his face. Snape stood with an angry growl, which was somewhat ineffective due to the obvious tenting in his trousers. His hand still holding him firmly down he climbed upon the table to kneel between Harry’s splayed legs. He leant down to capture both his hands, pushing them above his head as Harry’s eyes lit up with excitement. 

“You have been a very bad boy Mr Potter” said Snape in a dangerous tone. “Now what do you suppose I do about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again for reading. All comments and kudos gratefully recieved.


	13. You shouldn't have done that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my lovely readers. Sorry for the delay with this chapter I am in the process of moving house and have hardly had a minute to myself, but I've got it finished and it's 3000 words of smut so i hope that makes up for the delay. The next chapter may also be a little late but never fear I haven't given up on it, it may just be a little longer between updates. Thanks for reading and for the Kudos and comments.

Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower, Nearly Headless Nick, was just returning from a particularly lengthy meeting of the ghost council and was taking a short cut through the potions classroom wall when he heard it. 

“Keep quiet Potter or I’ll have to give you something to bite on!” came Snape’s commanding voice from beneath the Potion Master’s door. Nick had drifted slightly into the office on his way through the classroom and unconsciously breached the wards Snape had put up. Nick had looked up at the sudden noise as he floated absentmindedly past the bookcase, where he was greeted with a sight, the shock of which almost killed him, well it might have done if he wasn’t already dead.

Professor Snape, respected (at least by the Hogwarts ghosts) Potions Professor and Headmaster of Hogwarts, seemed to be disciplining Harry Potter, Student and Saviour of the Wizarding World in the most unusual of ways. In a way that Nick later thought to himself didn’t seem entirely proper. 

Mr Potter was sprawled on his front across said headmasters desk, his trousers and pants pulled down and bunched around the top of his boots. The headmaster was stood behind him, his shirt sleeves rolled up and holding a pair of dark leather suspenders in his hands (Yes Snape wears trouser suspenders, you can thank me later!) 

“You might want to brace yourself Mr Potter” Snape drawled, before he raised his arm above his head. 

A loud snap echoed around the dungeon followed by a guttural groan, Nick decided that was his moment to disappear. 

“Hit me harder” Harry hissed, his face pressed into the polished wood, his breath escaping in sharp pants. 

“Be careful what you wish for Potter” Snape threatened, his lip curled up in a snarl. “This is your punishment after all.”

“You’re a lot of things Snape, but careful isn’t one of them. If I’d have wanted careful, I’d have gone back to Ginny.”

Mentioning Ginny was a risky move, but it appeared to have had the desired effect and Harry soon found himself at the receiving end of a particularly vicious stroke.

“Hard enough?“ asked Snape, as he eyed with possessive satisfaction the red welt that was appearing along the bottom of Potter’s peachy backside. 

“J... Just about” Harry managed to get out between gasps of air, his hips thrusting uselessly against the hard wood of the table in an attempt at relief. 

“If you sully my desk Potter, I’ll make you lick it clean” Snape murmured, leaning over Harry’s trembling body to breath in his ear. The rough wool of Snape’s trousers brushed against the tender glowing flesh of Harry’s behind and he whined pitifully, turning his head in search of Severus’ mouth. 

It seemed Harry wasn’t the only one affected by his punishment, when Snape laid his body flush with Harry’s he could feel Snape’s hard cock through his trousers, brushing teasingly between his cheeks. Snape’s lips hovered over his ear as he whispered, “The things I want to do to you Potter.”

Harry shivered, his body pushing back against Snape’s of its own accord, his back arching sinfully.

“Like what?” Harry panted, trying to turn over but prevented from doing so by Snape’s hands holding him down by his wrists.

When Snape spoke he was shamelessly honest, unconscious in his last attempt at putting Harry off and scaring him away. A small part of him, the part which wasn’t being controlled by his prick, was hoping Harry would change his mind, before things got too far, before they arrived at a place it would be impossible to come back from.

“I want....” Snape started, his tone low, brushing his lips against the back of Harry’s sweat slicked neck as he spoke. “To have you in every way humanly possible. I want to fuck you so hard, and so good, that you’ll be unable to think of anything except me. I want to bite you, mark you, make you mine!” Snape growled, nipping at Harry’s nape with his teeth. “And when it’s through Potter, you’ll come back for more, you’ll beg me for more.”

“More” Harry whimpered, his cock now hard and leaking as he rubbed his still stinging ass against Snape’s erection, smiling at the intake of breath this pulled from the usually stoic Potions Master. 

“Every filthy thing you’ve ever imagined doing to someone Potter, every nasty, obscene thing, I’ll allow it.” Snape’s voice dropped another octave as he continued, and for a second Harry wondered if it was possible to come from this alone. 

“When I’ve finished with you, you’ll never want to look at another man again, the things I can make you feel, even touching yourself won’t be enough anymore. Imagine me all around you, in your body, in your head, giving you exactly what you want, whatever you want. Then every time you sit down you’ll be able to feel me still inside you, and you’ll be counting down the seconds till I’m back fucking that tight little arse like the desperate needy thing you are Mr Potter.”

Harry groaned long and low, and in answer to Harry’s previous question, it seemed it was entirely possible to come from Snape’s voice alone. Before he even really knew what was happening his cock was pulsing and he came all over the under side of Snape’s desk. 

“Did you just...?“ asked Snape, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Mmhmm” Harry answered a little breathlessly, his forehead now resting on the desk. 

“Well that is a first” Snape said smugly, releasing Harry’s wrists and turning him onto his back. His face was flushed and his eyes were closed. He was clearly embarrassed, unbeknown that Snape found the notion of making Harry come, untouched, pretty flattering really. 

Harry wasn’t even sure how it had happened, maybe it was the possessive tone in Snape’s voice that had pushed him over the edge. A green eyed Snape, jealous and demanding sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

Snape was a little disappointed if truth be told. He had been rather looking forward to watching Potter come undone. But even now, spent and limp and gloriously sated, Snape couldn’t tear his eyes away. Harry’s face was relaxed in a way Snape was unused to seeing of late, and when he finally opened his eyes and looked up at Snape with heavy lids, he looked entirely peaceful. 

It seemed that Harry’s prick now softening against his leg did nothing to quell Snape’s burning arousal as he was hit with a sudden surge of desire at the sight of the come that was still dripping down his thighs. 

“Sorry” Harry muttered sitting up, starting to feel self conscious now the heat of the moment was fading. 

“No need to apologise Mr Potter, I’m far from done with you yet.”

“You’re not?” 

“I’m only just getting started” Snape purred before dropping to his knees, looking up at Harry with eyes full of mischief and promise. He held Harry’s gaze as he unlaced each of Harry’s boots before sliding them off, then each sock, then he untangled the jeans from around his ankles to join the rest. The action was strangely intimate after the rough handling of before, and Harry felt heat rising in his cheeks as he watched Snape’s sure fingers divulge him of his clothes. 

Then Snape lowered his head to Harry’s ankle and kissed the bone. Harry giggled, he felt giddy, drunk on the power he had over Severus Snape. The man who had deceived two of the most powerful wizards of all time, the man who had laid himself at Voldemort’s feet, kissed the hem of his robes. The thought alone should have disgusted Harry, but seeing Snape hunched over at his feet, kissing them, made Harry’s cock twitch with renewed interest. Snape trailed his tongue up the side of his calf before nipping at the inside of his knee, his fingers stroking and smoothing over his legs as his mouth moved higher. He started with open mouthed kisses, warm and wet up the inside of Harry’s thigh before flattening his tongue to lick up several streaks of come still clinging to his leg. 

“Did you just... ?” asked Harry in amazement. 

“Mmhhmm” answered Snape, pulling back to look up at Harry, his tongue darting around his mouth before making an obscene show of licking his lips.

“Fuck, that was hot” Harry said breathily.

“Yes” Snape said in agreement, his eyes alight and the flush of red now back on his neck. “Yes, it was.”

Harry scooted forward frantically, forcing Snape back on his heels. He lost his balance and teetered for a minute before crashing backwards on to the floor from the impact of 140lb of horny teenager. One of Harry’s dragon hide boots was digging painfully into his back but it was soon forgotten when Harry’s mouth was back on his and that delicious naked body was writhing atop him.

“Can you taste yourself?” Snape asked when Harry finally came up for air, his eyes glazed and glassy. 

“Yes” Harry said, pushing his hands into Snape’s surprisingly soft hair and tugging hard. “I like it” he muttered before kissing him again, pushing his tongue deep into Snape’s mouth before sucking Snape’s tongue into his own. Snape moaned at the implications of his action as Harry squirmed deliciously. 

Harry paused for a moment, looking down at Snape’s many layers and at his wand which lay several feet away under the bookshelf. Looking back down at Snape he grasped the front of his waistcoat and shirt and pulled hard. It was with great satisfaction that he heard every single one of Snape’s 33 buttons pop off and bounce onto the stone floor. 

Snape opened his mouth to object but was cut short by Harry shifting back to straddle his hips before pulling his own shirt over his head and leaving himself entirely naked. The candlelight danced over his rippling stomach muscles as he pulled his arms above his head and Snape’s mouth went dry. It was easy to forget that he was only eighteen, with his taut abs glistening below a dark patch of chest hair and the stubble burn Snape was sure to have come morning, it certainly made it easier then he thought possible to forget something as menial as a number. 

Harry seemed relatively experienced and most certainly eager, and for the moment Snape wasn’t going to argue with that. Harry was now making quick work of Snape’s trousers and seemed more then happy to carry on from where he left off before they were so rudely interrupted by Professor McGonagall. His mouth was back on Snape’s hip as he pushed Snape’s trousers and briefs down to his ankles.  


Snape had been hard since the moment he’d took off his suspenders to give Potter the flogging he’d begged so prettily for and had only gotten harder since. He hissed as his sensitive cock came in contact with the cold dungeon air and then cried out in a most un-Snape like manner as Harry took his cock in his mouth. 

“Christ Potter, you’re good at this” groaned Snape, as Harry took him deep in his throat and swallowed, his tongue licking along the underside before sucking on the head. 

Harry pulled off with a smile before sliding up the length of Snape’s body and kissing him hard. His cock which was already hard again brushed against Snape’s who inhaled deeply through his nose at the sensation. Snape’s hands roamed hungrily down Harry’s back revelling in the feel of his soft warm skin. His hand drifted lower over the swell of Harry’s arse and he whined loudly as Snape brushed over the red stripes he’d left there. 

“Sorry,” Snape breathed into Harry’s mouth. 

“Do it again” Harry groaned, rubbing shamelessly against Snape’s prick. 

Snape hesitated a little in surprise before experimentally running the nails of one hand down Harry’s side and over his ass. Harry sobbed loudly and Snape felt his cock noticeably twitch against his own. Harry sat up, moving to take both Snape’s cock and his own in his hand. He worked them both at a steady pace, lifting himself up on his knees to get a better angle. Snape stroked back over his arse, his fingers dipping between his cheeks as Harry arched his back with a sigh. Snape wondered for a moment how he'd let himself be so easily manipulated, and how he was the one on his back under the command of Potter when it should really be the other way around. He was finding it hard to object however over the noise of Harry's moans of encouragement. “Oh.. yes, Oh Sir, that.. that feels so good.” It made sense that Potter was noisy during sex, he was noisy in every other aspect of his life, Snape was a fool to think this would be any different. 

Harry’s free hand drifted up to pinch one of his nipples and Snape slapped it away with a growl. Harry let his hand drop onto his thigh content for the moment to just enjoy the feel of Snape’s wandering hands and the thick throbbing cock against his own. Snape’s hands settled on Harry’s hips as he thrust up into his tight fist, the little grunts he was making and his furrowed brow, the only other signs Snape was enjoying this at all. He tilted his head back, unconsciously baring his scarred neck as he looked up at the ceiling. 

Harry looked down at Snape, it felt so surreal seeing him like this, usually so cool and collected, letting Harry see him like this, bare and exposed with his scars visible. Harry twisted his fist and Snape grunted louder this time, trying to hold on to what little was left of his self restraint. 

Harry closed his eyes, savouring the feel of Snape’s cock in his hand and his hips between his thighs. His bottom lip was held between his teeth as he picked up the pace, his hips rocking backwards and forwards making it too easy for Snape to imagine he was fucking Harry and he was rocking up and down on Snape’s cock instead of his own fist. 

Harry opened his eyes as Snape’s thumbs brushed over the soft skin of his groin and moved down along his balls. Harry’s forehead now glistened with a sheen of sweat, his breathing was shaky and laboured and the rhythm of his fist had become erratic, he was close. 

Harry looked down at his fist, watching with fascination as their cocks appeared and disappeared from between his fingers. He could feel that Snape was close too, in as much as it was possible to tell. His chest was heaving and the muscles in his stomach were twitching.

“I want to come on you” Snape said, his voice strained. It came out sounding like a question, but they both knew it was an order. 

“Oh..” Harry breathed out, his prick dripping at the idea. “Okay.” 

He found himself being pushed onto his back, Snape leaning over him with wild eyes as he closed his fingers around his own prick and continued Harry’s pace. His brow was creased in concentration and Harry watched in anticipation as Snape brought himself over the edge with a few furtive tugs, his eyes flicking from Harry’s face to his now spurting cock. His jaw was clenched and the only sound he made was a low groan as Harry’s chest and chin was splashed with Snape’s come. Harry whimpered at the sight, his neglected cock twitching against his now sticky stomach. Harry thought this was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Snape gave himself a last stroke as he sat back to survey his handiwork.

He took a moment to regain his breath before leaning forward to dip his fingers though his own come before sliding his hand around Harry’s cock. The movement was slick and made an obscenely loud noise. Harry whined in the back of his throat as Snape continued to work his cock, Harry dragging his fingers through the last of Snape’s release that was currently cooling on his chest. He rubbed across a nipple and his breath caught a little when he saw the predatory look in Snape’s eyes. Snape upped his pace just as Harry brought his hand up to his mouth licking the come from his fingers. He continued to push his fingers in and out of his mouth as Snape lowered his head and sucked the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth. That was all it took before Harry was coming with a shout down Snape’s throat who seemed more then happy to swallow everything he got. 

Snape lifted off and lay down beside Harry, thinking for a moment how odd the situation was. To be laid naked on the cold floor of his office with Harry Potter. He turned on his side propping his head on his arm to look down at him. 

“You look utterly debauched Potter” Snape said with a slight fondness in his voice. 

Harry huffed out a breath his eyes still closed, “I feel it.” 

“That was... good though” he added, opening an eye to look at Snape. “I mean, really good.” 

“I aim to please” Snape said raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, I’m very pleased.” 

“Be on your best behaviour then Potter and I might be amicable to pleasing you again. Although three times in one night might be a little optimistic, even for you” said Snape, standing up a little gingerly to retrieve their clothes. 

“Remind me never to do this on the floor again” he added rubbing at his back. 

It was past midnight when Harry snuck into Gryffindor Tower looking like he’d been mugged and smelling like a brothel. He couldn’t stop grinning all the way from the dungeons to the dormitory and had to give himself a firm talking to on the way up the staircase in case Ron was still up. Luckily for Harry everyone was asleep so would be spared the twenty questions until the morning. He grabbed his wash bag from his trunk and headed for a quick shower, all the while thinking of Snape. 

Snape woke the next morning feeling like he’d slept on the pavement, which after the previous night’s activities he may as well have. He was far too old to be engaging in fumbles on the floor and he was certainly paying for it. 

A warm shower and a pain potion later Snape hobbled into the Great Hall, ensuring to keep his eyes firmly away from the Gryffindor table as he made his way to his usual seat. He felt obvious. Like everyone would instantly know what he’d done. Like he was walking into breakfast wearing a Gryffindor scarf. 

He sat down beside McGonagall who had watched his assent with concern. 

“Is everything okay Severus?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You look pained.”

“No more then usual Minerva.” Snape replied dismissively, picking up the Daily Prophet and pouring himself a very strong coffee. 

Professor McGonagall wasn’t the only one who had noticed Snape’s complaining back. 

“Why’s Snape walking like he’s got something stuck up his arse?“ asked Ron, causing Harry to nearly choke on his orange juice. 

“I.. I hadn’t noticed” said Harry, turning slightly to watch as Snape limped along the teachers table. 

“Maybe it’s a war injury giving him some jip” suggested Hermione who hadn’t looked up, engrossed in a text book laid open on the bench beside her. 

“Yeah maybe” said Harry, catching Snape’s eye before he disappeared behind the newspaper. 

Snape waited until he was certain Harry had gone back to his breakfast before he emerged from behind the prophet. He folded it in half before lifting his now cold coffee to his lips with a slight grimace. He let his gaze drift around the hall inconspicuously for a moment before it landed on Potter and his friends. Snape’s stomach sunk, Harry was sat at the Gryffindor table in his school uniform and Snape felt sick. He had slept with a student, and not just any student but Harry ‘Fucking’ Potter. What was he thinking! He obviously hadn’t been thinking at all. If anyone found out he’d be fired. Not only fired, he’d likely be hung drawn and quartered. What had he done?


	14. Words are capable of influencing injury  and remedying it

Harry knew immediately there was something wrong the moment he walked into potions and found Snape doing everything in his power to avoid looking at him. He tried his usual tried and tested methods which were almost fool proof in provoking a reaction from Snape, but even after talking to Ron all through his lesson plan and dropping several vials of extremely valuable potions ingredients, he still didn’t get a reaction, not even so much as a raised eyebrow. 

Harry knew that after last night they would have to be careful, especially if they were to do it again, which Harry was rather hoping they would. He knew what Snape was risking and he didn’t want him to loose his job. Now he’d hardly expected Snape to be making eyes at him over his morning coffee, but neither had he expected that Snape would refuse to acknowledge him entirely. What did he really think he was going to achieve. It was hardly going to be the first conclusion people jumped to if they were to see the two of them together, they were supposed arch enemies after all. 

If anything, Snape’s strange change in behaviour towards Harry made it only the more obvious that something was amiss. Several Slytherin’s had turned around with great glee upon hearing the smash of the potion vials, proceeding to look between Harry and Snape in confusion when he simply ignored the commotion and carried on with his paperwork as though nothing had happened. Under normal circumstances Harry would have been given a weeks detention and been humiliated in front of the entire class, making it quite clear to everyone that something wasn’t right. It was the natural order of things after all, wars were fought, battles were won, the earth turned and Professor Snape and Harry Potter despised each other. 

When Snape dismissed the class at the end of their lesson Harry sat resolutely in his seat as the rest filed out, his eyes fixed on Snape who sat behind his desk pretending not to notice.

He waited till Ron and Hermione had left, shooting a last furtive glance at Harry as the door closed loudly behind them. Snape met his gaze for the first time all morning, his signature glare in place. Harry noticed it was lacking it’s usually threat, he looked a little fearful if anything. 

Harry got up and made his way over to Snape’s desk. “What’s you’re problem then, I thought you enjoyed last night?” 

“My problem?” Snape hissed, his eyes flashing. “You sit in my class, as my pupil, and you ask me what my problem is! My problem is that you are eighteen, and a student! I should never have let it happen, it was wrong on so many levels.”

Harry scoffed as he leant against the desk. “Don’t play the martyr Snape, that’s my job remember. I mean you really forced yourself on me didn’t you, I took some real persuading.” 

“Do use what little common sense you possess Potter” Snape said sighing. Now he was alone with Harry he was finding it difficult to remember the reasons why he was trying to put a stop to this in the first place. 

“Do you think for just moment that a single sane person will believe that you came on to me. They will believe what everyone always believes, that I coerced, that I forced you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Ridiculous! Look at yourself Potter.” Harry looked down at himself in confusion. 

“What?” 

“You’re wearing a school uniform, I’m your teacher. I’m more then twice your age for christ sake. I’m bent and broken and certainly no good for you.” He dropped his head into his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Now who’s having the pity party. Shouldn’t I be the one who decides what’s good for me?” 

“Its never been your choice before, what makes you think it will be any different now?” Snape said, looking up at him. 

“I’m not asking you to marry me. We had fun. That’s all that matters isn’t it, shouldn’t we both be allowed a little fun after what we did, what we sacrificed.”

There was a glint of hope in Snape’s eyes at Harry’s words. If only it was that simple, perhaps he could claim Potter as his spoils of war. 

“The war might be over Potter but it never ends for people like us. I’ll always be a Death Eater the same as you’ll always be the Chosen One. You’re the world’s Golden Boy, even your half hearted attempts at causing a scandal have done nothing to tarnish your name, where as me, mothers with their children cross the street when they see me coming, scared my depravity and corruption will rub off on their precious offspring.”

“People are stuck in their ways” Harry said dismissively. “People see what they want to see, because they don’t know or want to know the truth. What’s the worst they can do?” Harry asked, his voice full of irony. “Make our lives a misery?”

Snape smiled a sad smile, it was true what they said, misery loves company. He didn’t want to turn him away, he really didn’t. Harry had made Snape feel things he never thought he’d feel again, and if he was honest with himself, it scared him just a little. He’d laid awake last night playing back their encounter in his office, ashamed at how easily he had given in to Harry’s whims, allowed him to see him like no one else ever had. 

It had also surprised him how comfortable it was between them. They had developed a sort of understanding since the battle of Hogwarts, but it was still a massive jump from being able to have a conversation without killing each other, to wanking each other off on the floor of his office. 

“Look I know this isn’t what most people would call normal” said Harry, starting to pace. “But when has anything in my life been normal, I’m not normal, I don’t want normal. I don’t know what it is, or even why, but I can talk to you. I don’t feel judged, I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not, I can just be me. When I’m with you I don’t think about the bad things, and well, if I’m with you, I’m not looking for something else” Harry said weakly. 

“You mean someone else Potter, that’s blackmail and you know it” Snape spoke, voice suddenly angry. “So what, I give you what you want or else you’ll find someone who can?”

Harry shrugged unconcerned, “You’d be surprised at the lengths I’ll go to to get what I want.” 

“I really wouldn’t” Snape growled, his arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinised Harry from below his raised eyebrows. 

He wondered how everyone else was still completely oblivious to this change in Potter. Snape at times often wondered if they were speaking about the same person. He’d overheard Minerva and Pomona only last week speculating on how well adjusted, and how calm and collected he was, praising him on how he’d dealt with everything. Snape had been this close to breaking all their bubbles and informing them that Potter was most certainly not dealing with it well, and that poor unfortunate Potter was actually a manipulative little catamite, with an addiction to strong liquor and a new found love for cock. 

Perhaps enlightening them all to the fact that Harry was sleeping with men old enough to be his father was not the best approach. 

“Look if you don’t want me, just tell me” said Harry a little sulkily. “I’m a big boy, I can take it.” 

“Of course I want you, you foolish boy” Snape shouted slamming his hands down on the desk. “But as you of all people should surely know Mr Potter, you can’t always have what you want!” 

A slight smile flittered across Harry’s face at Snape’s admission. “You’ve spent your entire life depriving yourself of the things you want Snape, isn’t it about time you let yourself live.” 

“I’m your teacher, your headmaster, your mentor. You’re supposed to be able to trust me.”

“I do trust you” said Harry with sincerity. “I’d trust you with my life.”

“Then I abused that trust, in the worst possible way.”

“I’m not a child Snape! I know what I want.”

“You’ve got no idea what you want Potter! You might think you’re little publicity stunt somehow means you’ve seen the world, but you’ve no clue.”

“You said you’d help me” Harry said weakly. “You said you’d do what it takes.”

“I was wrong” said Snape, “I can’t help you.”

Snape hated himself the moment the words left his lips, and even more so when he saw the hope crushed in Harry’s eyes. But he had to be cruel to be kind. Harry was much better off with someone his own age, someone who had something to offer, could bring out the best in him. He knew that if they started something, he wouldn’t be able to let him go. Some men flitted from man to man, never becoming attached, but Harry wasn’t a stranger, he’d known him for far too long to be able to just call it a day. Better to just rip off the plaster now rather then prolong the agony. 

“I think you’d better go Mr Potter, your next class is about to start.” 

“Yeah I think I better!” Harry spat, marching away and slamming the door closed behind him.

Harry was furious and he didn’t know why. It was supposed to be a bit of fun, a distraction. So why did he feel so angry as he choked back tears. He’d been turned down before, so why had this time felt like a slap in the face. He didn’t want to admit it but with Snape it was different, it was more then just a distraction this time. 

He walked in a blind rage from the dungeons and into the day light with no intention of going to DADA, Remus be dammed. He descended the front steps intending to head for the lake, his teeth gritted and his fists clenched. He felt stupid that he was reacting this way. They’d spent one night together, which did nothing to explain this sudden dependency. Why did it suddenly matter what Snape thought of him. 

He wasn’t naive, at least not in the sense that he expected Snape to suddenly declare his undying love for him just because he’d touched his cock. But it was Snape who had been the possessive one, Snape who had growled at the idea of Harry with another man. 

Up to only a few weeks ago Harry had never so much as looked at Snape, certainly not in a way that could be interpreted as anything but platonic, yet here he was, acting like the petulant child Snape took such great satisfaction in accusing him of being. 

He crossed the court yard and was just about to round the corner out of sight when Professor McGonagall called out to him from the entrance hall. 

“Potter! A word if I may.”

Harry spun around, his face red and his blood pumping loudly in his ears. He approached McGonagall with caution, her lips were pursed, irritation running off her in waves. He stopped a few feet away, hesitant to meet her gaze. 

“Have they moved the third floor corridor again Mr Potter or have you taken a wrong turn?” 

“I needed some air” Harry mumbled, attempting to slow his rapidly beating heart. “I...wasn’t feeling too good.”

She pushed her glasses up her nose as she scrutinised him. “You do look a little flushed Potter, let’s speak in my office.”

Harry reluctantly followed McGonagall to the head teachers tower and up to what he would always think of as Dumbledore’s office. 

She brought him a glass of water, and after ensuring he was okay rounded the desk to sit in Dumbledore’s chair. 

“Now this isn’t an intervention Mr Potter” said Professor McGonnagall suddenly serious. “So I don’t want you to feel threatened.”

Here we go thought Harry, he was about to receive his promised castigation, all thanks to Snape. 

“It has been brought to my attention, that you have been smoking cigarettes on Hogwarts grounds.” She paused, as though merely suggesting it caused her great pain. “Now I know things have been tough Harry.” She was using his first name, that was never good. “I know being back here is hard, and we will as promised cut you as much slack as we are able, but rules are rules and we must all, you especially Harry, set a good example for the sake of our younger pupils, and for our school. You must understand that.”

“Yeah, of course I do” answered Harry insincerely. “I’m sorry Professor. It won’t happen again.”

McGonagall’s eyes softened, and Harry risked a small smile. “Do you need a note for the infirmary Mr Potter or will a rest in Gryffindor Tower suffice?”

“I’ll head back to the Tower I think. I’m sure I’ll feel better after a lie down.”

“Of course, I’ll have a note sent to Professor Lupin explaining your absence. Make sure not to make any detours on your way though Potter, else I’ll know.”

“Of course” Harry answered, heading for the door. 

He was half way along the corridor and looking forward to the peace and quiet of his four poster bed when Snape rounded the corner making for the vacated office. They both stopped in their tracks, caught off guard seeing each other so soon after their earlier disagreement. Snape collected himself first and marched towards Harry, face stony and his mask now firmly back in place. He drew level with Harry, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

“Why are you not in class?” 

“What’s it to you?“ Harry snapped, pushing past Snape and knocking his shoulder in the process. 

“Remember who you’re speaking to Potter. It may have escaped your notice, but I’m still your professor and headmaster!”

“When it suits you” Harry retorted bitterly. “You weren’t too keen to remind me of that fact last night were you.”

Snape looked around uneasily before he responded. “Keep your voice down you imbecile!” 

Harry opened his mouth to retort but closed it again. Deciding not to give Snape a rise or an excuse to take house points. 

“I was getting my bollocking from McGonagall if you must know, thanks to you.”

Snape’s lips twitched in amusement, “and what did you tell her, that it was all a misunderstanding, that I made it up?”

“No” said Harry with a surprising lack of concern. “I told her the truth. 

Snape looked panicked for a moment. “The truth?” 

“It might be a foreign concept to you, but yeah, the truth, and don’t have a coronary, I meant about the smoking, which I’m sure you’ll be disappointed to hear I didn’t receive detention for.”

“That is your head of houses prerogative,” Snape huffed out, moving towards the office. “Perhaps it was foolish of me to expect Professor McGonagall to be able to look past your oversized ego, I’ll not be making that mistake again.” He strode towards the gargoyle with purpose, leaving Harry standing in the corridor feeling even more conflicted then before. 

He was digging in his trunk for the last of a bottle of whisky he’d remembered stashing there when he came across the marauders map. It had been some time since he’d used it and he had forgotten it was in there. He’d found little need to use it now he was no longer following murdering animagi or tracking budding young death eaters. 

He sat atop his covers with the map spread open before him, his curtains closed and warded and the whisky bottle held loosely in one hand. His eyes flickered up and down the floors of the castle, watching the many labelled dots scurrying too and fro like ants. His gaze drifting unconsciously down to the dungeons where the black dot labelled Snape was now back in his office, pacing. 

Harry scowled and looked away, taking a long swig of whisky and shuddering slightly. He glanced back down, even seeing the words Severus Snape in the maps loopy scrawl set Harry’s heart racing, and not in the bitter, blood boiling sense that he’d become accustomed to over the years. 

He pushed the map off the bed and lay back against the cushions, closing his eyes to block out the words which were still visualised on the inside of his eyelids. He finished the last of the whisky and fell into an uneasy sleep, filled with dark hair, white skin and whispered promises. 

He woke some hours later, disorientated and a little nauseous. The empty bottle of whisky staring accusingly at him from the bedside table. He sat up with a groan, adjusting his glasses which he’d fallen asleep in and were now digging painfully into his face. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet crumpling the discarded map that still lay there. He snatched it up from the floor and stuffed it aggressively into a draw. 

Standing up his head swam and for a dizzying moment he thought he was going to be sick. He took a few deep breaths until the feeling abated. It was 6pm meaning everyone would be preoccupied in the great hall with dinner, the perfect opportunity to escape the castle Harry thought to himself. 

He saw no one as he left the common room and headed down the staircase. There were a few students still hanging around the entrance hall but no one noticed him as he passed though and out into the early evening air. It was cold out and Harry shivered slightly in just his shirt sleeves, he kept close to the castle and found a secluded spot below the great halls towering windows, sinking down with relief onto the wet grass, his back against the stone. 

The sun was just sinking on the west side of the castle causing Harry to be almost invisible where he sat amongst the shadows. He pulled out his cigarettes and placed one between his dry lips, inhaling deeply. He breathed out once before dropping the cigarette to the ground and vomiting on the grass beside him. He turned onto his hands and knees with a grunt as he heaved, his head starting to pound. He slumped back against the wall, panting heavily as the sickness started to subside. The discarded cigarette lay burning in the grass and when Harry felt certain he wasn’t going to be sick again he picked it back up and took another drag. 

He lent his head back against the cool brick, wiping the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand. The cold November air hurt his chest as he inhaled causing him to rub at his burning throat. He could feel the wet grass soaking through his trousers but had neither the energy nor the desire to get up, so he sat in an exhausted haze as the sky grew darker and the noise from the great hall diminished.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but he was suddenly jolted out of his stupor by voices drifting across the lawn and the flicker of a lantern. He sat perfectly still as the voices grew closer, hoping he would remain unnoticed under cover of the castles high walls. 

The outline of two figures came over the dip in the path and Harry watched with dread as Filch and Snape came into view, Filch with his familiar shuffling gait and wheezing breaths and Snape as cold and black as ever. 

They seemed to be deep in conversation and for one hopeful moment Harry thought they were going to walk straight past him, but as fate would have it they left the path and headed straight for where Harry was sat, surrounded by piles of his own vomit. He hung his head and held his breath as the footsteps came closer, then the voices stopped and the lamp was held high forcing Harry to shield his eyes with a groan. 

“Well, well, well” came Filch’s voice, breathing heavily with the excitement of finding a student potentially breaking school rules. “What do we have here.”

There was a moment of silence before Snape spoke. “I’ll deal with Mr Potter, Argus” came Snape’s silky voice, casting a non verbal lumos. “If you would be so kind as to patrol the forest boundaries for the time being, we can resume our arrangement when it is convenient.”

“As you wish Headmaster” replied Filch disappointedly.  
Harry listened to the footsteps fade into the distance before chancing a look up at Snape. His white school shirt, soaked with a combination of sweat and damp November air clung to his body, the stain from his earlier vomiting episode evident down its front. He’d started shaking and his skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. 

“Look at the state of you!” hissed Snape, once filch was out of ear shot. 

“Leave it out Snape” said Harry sighing, struggling to get to his feet while keeping his hands out of the copious piles of vomit. 

Snape leant down and grasped the front of Harry’s sodden shirt in a tight fist and lifted him off his feet and onto dry land, Harry once again surprised at Snape’s strength. He was still shaking and now he was on his feet he was embarrassed at how unsteady he felt. 

“Professor McGonagall informed me you’d retired to your dormitory Potter, because you were unwell.”

Harry looked up at Snape in exasperation, squinting against the bright light of Snape’s still raised wand. His face looked sickly and grey and he was still sweating though it had to be less then 5 degrees outside. 

“Well now you’ve confirmed I wasn’t lying, you can leave me alone.” Harry replied teeth chattering. 

“Cut the crap, I can smell the liquor from here. You’re not sick, you’re hungover!” 

Harry tried to walk away but it seemed he had majorly overestimated his ability to walk unaided, he staggered and would have pitched forward onto the grass was it not for the strong arm that slid underneath his own. 

“Stop struggling Potter” Snape muttered, hauling Harry against his side. He put out the light on his wand and cast a warming charm, feeling Potter immediately heat up beneath the flimsy fabric of his shirt. 

“These desperate cries for attention need to stop” said Snape bitterly, as he walked Potter towards the entrance Hall. “If this is some hare-brained idea to get me to help you, I’ve news for you, it will not work.”

“Oh yeah, cos I knew exactly when you and Filch would be skulking outside, did I look like I wanted to be found.”

“You tell me” said Snape steering Harry towards the dungeons rather then the seventh floor corridor. 

“If you really think this is some elaborate plan to get back in your pants I hardly think vomiting all down myself would have been my best move would it” Harry said a little breathlessly. 

“I wouldn’t put it past you” Snape murmured, bypassing his office and heading for his private rooms. 

“Why are we going to your rooms?” Harry grunted, his body wracked by a particularly violent shudder. Snape had to stop to grip Harry tighter under the arms to stop him from falling. 

“Because you’re in no fit state to go back to your dormitory Potter, now I’m only too happy to take you to the hospital Wing if you’d prefer, otherwise shut your mouth and get in.” 

He was starting to feel a little nauseous again and subsequently chose to keep his mouth shut as Snape manoeuvred him over the threshold and onto his couch. He sat down heavily, his head lolling backwards onto the cushions. 

He vaguely heard Snape re establishing the wards and locking the door, before hanging up his cloak and moving further into the room, a fire sprang into life in the hearth and Harry seemed to come to life with it as the warmth seeped through him. Snape cautiously approached the couch where Harry’s shivering seemed to be subsiding and held a cool hand to his forehead, Harry shut his eyes and leant into the touch, huffing out a breath. Snape pulled his hand away a little too quickly and disappeared through the door to his bedroom, reappearing a moment later in a shirt and slacks. 

He approached the couch again a little cautiously this time and hoisted Harry up under the arms who spluttered in objection at being manhandled. “Quit your protests Potter.” 

Harry allowed Snape to guide him through his bedroom and into the bathroom. “You’re lucky you’re not hypothermic, you foolish boy” Snape muttered, helping Harry to sit on the seat of the toilet while he set the shower running. Harry summoned the strength to glare at Snape but its effects were somewhat lost. He helped Harry out of his shirt and trousers, Harry wishing it was under very different circumstances. 

After ensuring Harry’s legs were able to support his own weight he set a towel out and left to wait in the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed listening to the water beating down and allowed himself to think about Harry, in his rooms, in his shower, wet and willing. He could tell him he’d changed his mind, that he’d take away the pain, that he’d be the distraction he needed. It would be easy, damp and flushed from the shower he could push him down onto the bed and take everything. 

He didn’t hear the shower shut off, lost in his own thoughts, only looking up when the door opened with a creak and a very wet and dripping Harry Potter walked tentatively into the room. He had a towel wrapped low on his slim hips and Snape swallowed heavily at the sight, the temptation to push him down into the mattress becoming almost too much to resist. Snape couldn’t seem to look away, his chest was flushed red from the heat of the shower and droplets of water were running unhindered down his firm chest and taut stomach. Snape’s mouth was dry and he swallowed again, Harry this time watching his constricting throat with interest. 

Harry took another step closer, Snape watching him intently with his dark penetrative gaze. He could hear his own breathing, loud in the suddenly silent room, and then he stopped breathing all together as Harry dropped his towel with a soft thud onto the carpet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading. Please let me know what you think.


	15. I make mistakes like the next man

“Potter, don’t do this,” Snape pleaded, his eyes downcast and his fingers twitching restlessly at his sides. 

“Do what?” Harry asked innocently, as Snape, posture stiff and defensive, tried and failed to look anywhere but the newly exposed parts of Potter’s anatomy. 

How had he allowed it to get this far again? His self control crumbling before his very eyes, not even twenty four hours since he vowed to keep away from the boy. He was weak, so very weak. He deserved to be found out, deserved to loose his job; damn he deserved to go to Azkaban for the things he’d done and seemed far too likely he’d do again! What was it about Potter? Was it the lure of forbidden fruit? the temptation of something that should most certainly be off limits but surprisingly wasn’t. 

Harry Potter was everything Severus Snape was not, he was everything that was good in the world, whilst Severus was everything that was bad. But right now the line between good and bad, right and wrong, was so blurred that the hazy fog that was his brain seemed incapable of distinguishing between the two.

Harry bit his bottom lip as he watched Snape with amusement battle with his inner conflict, closing the already far too small gap between them to place a steady hand on Snape’s cheek. The touch wasn’t tentative like the previous night’s, he touched him with a certainty and surety which Severus definitely didn’t share. 

He met Harry’s gaze with reluctance and Harry was startled by the weariness in Snape’s stare. “Why do you persist Potter?” Snape asked in a whisper as Harry brushed a thumb over his bottom lip. 

“What can I say, Sir. The stubbornness of Gryffindor’s.” 

Snape huffed out an amused breath as his traitorous body leant into Potter’s touch. It felt so natural, in a way it had never felt with anyone, in a way it had no right to feel, especially at the hands of the teenage son of his childhood rival. 

“If I said yes, it would end only one way, even a foolish Gryffindor like yourself must see that.”

“It can end how ever we want it to end. You obviously still want me” Harry argued, glancing down at his own glistening body and catching Snape’s wandering eye with a smirk. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve made it startlingly clear what I want.” 

“It’s not as simple as that Potter!” Snape suddenly snapped, slapping Harry’s hand away from him and standing up. He hesitated for a moment, Potters wet and willing body only a hairs breadth away from his own, and for one hopeful moment Harry thought he was going to cave; but then with an unbelievable amount of self discipline, he brushed past him and out into the living room leaving Harry frustrated and alone in the bedroom. 

Some minutes later, in which Snape had lit a fire and was now staring moodily into the flames, Harry reappeared in the sitting room, thankfully now fully dressed. Snape heard the footsteps but refrained from turning around, he’d resisted Harry’s advances once already and doubted his ability to do so a second time. Harry’s footsteps halted behind the chair in which Severus sat, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little bit disappointed when he heard the footsteps resume and the click of the latch as the door closed shut behind him. 

In the weeks that followed, Snape tried everything known to man to escape the phenomenon that was Harry Potter, even going so far as to change direction in the corridor when he saw a familiar flop of hair coming his way. Some days he even avoided meal times all together, just to refrain from seeing the intolerable smugness radiating off Potter every time he caught his eye, which admittedly was far too often then was strictly proper for a Professor. 

It hardly helped that Potter seemed to be the focus point of everyone’s day, both in and out of the staff room. It was Potter this, Potter that, everywhere he turned he was there. Taunting him, teasing him in the way he’d rest his chin on his hand and look coyly up at the staff table as though saying, _this is what you could be having._

__

____

“Are you sure you won’t come to the burrow for Christmas?“ Ron asked for the third time that day. 

__

“I’m sure” Harry replied without looking at him, preoccupied with watching the staff entrance to the great hall. 

__

“I could stay at the castle with you, if you wanted mate?” Ron offered, prompted by a particularly sharp jab to the ribs from Hermione’s elbow. 

__

“Don’t be daft Ron, your mum would kill you” Harry said, turning back to his untouched plate, uncomfortably aware that this was the third night in a row Snape had been absent at dinner. “I’m a big boy Ron. I’ll be okay on my own. Besides, it’s the first Christmas since – well,” Harry paused, suddenly unsure how to form the words. 

__

“Since Fred, I know,” Ron finished. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want you there. You’re still part of the family Harry.”

__

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably, it had been a long time since he’d really felt a part of the Weasley’s family. “Honestly Ron, I’d really prefer to stay here.”

__

“It just doesn’t seem right, you being here on your own, especially at Christmas.”

__

“Don’t worry” said Harry, suddenly cheerful. “I’m sure I’ll not be short of company.”

__

Ron frowned disapprovingly in a scarily accurate impression of his mother. “That’s what worries me.”

__

“Don’t be a kill joy Ron, you sound like Hermione.”

__

“I am here you know!” Hermione said irritably. 

__

“Sorry Mione, you know what I meant” Harry said sheepishly, giving his friend a one armed hug. 

__

“Hmm,” she said unconvincingly. “It’s a good job that I do Harry James Potter.”

__

Harry smiled widely at Hermione’s full use of his name, which was always a clear sign that she’d forgiven him. “Just promise me you’ll at least try to stay out of trouble” she asked.  


“Trouble? Me?” he replied with a grin. “Never.”

__

__

It was Christmas eve and most of the professors were in the staff room enjoying a well earned festive tipple when the door flew open and Madame Hooch stumbled over the threshold, distress evident in her amber eyes as she murmured frantically to herself. 

__

Professor McGonagall who had been occupying a chair closest to the door shot up to offer her a supportive arm. 

__

“Rolanda, what ever is the matter?“

__

Madame Hooch rubbed her hands over her eyes as though attempting to erase something she’d seen, finally acknowledging the room full of people as she allowed Professor McGonagall to guide her inside. 

__

“Never in my 25 years of teaching have I encountered such acts of debauchery from students, and within the grounds of this very castle no less!” she muttered hysterically as Minerva laid a comforting hand around her shaking shoulders. “And from Mr Potter of all people!” she continued, “Now he’s grown into quite the strapping young lad, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve taught him since he was 11 years old Minerva! Merlin’s beard, my poor eyes!”

__

Professor McGonagall had managed to persuade her into a chair and had fixed her a brandy when the Headmaster who had been sitting unnoticed in the far corner of the room spoke up. 

__

“What an earth was he doing?” 

__

He had aimed for mild disinterest when he’d opened his mouth, hence was slightly horrified by his over zealous response. 

__

Madame Hooch looked up at Snape in surprise and took a deep breath before answering. “Well, I.. I was locking up the broom shed, you see Wiggins had been granted permission to use the pitch due to him training as Hufflepuffs new beater and he’d been out till late. I’d just checked over the school brooms and..”

__

“Get to the point woman!” Snape interrupted. 

__

“Severus!” Minerva scolded. 

__

“Apologies Rolanda, continue, please.” 

__

She sniffed in annoyance before she continued. “- and well, there was a noise in one of the sheds, so naturally I went to check it out, only to find Mr Potter and Mr Nott in quite the state of undress, engaging in the most vulgar of acts. I mean I’m far from ignorant when it comes to student nookie, I’ve seen my fair share of covert canoodles in my years here, but this was something else headmaster. The things he was _saying! _The things they were _doing! _”She took a deep drink from her glass, shuddering slightly. “I expect I should be thankful that neither boy saw me, I can only imagine the further embarrassment that would have caused.”____

_____ _

_____ _

__

“I am to presume it looked to be, consensual, on both parts?” Snape asked offhandedly. 

__

“Consensual?” Rolanda repeated. “Why of course headmaster.”

__

Minerva frowned at Severus as he stood from his chair, inwardly seething as he’d listened to Hooch relaying the events of Potter’s erotic escapades, feeling a bitter anger bubbling up inside him as he imagined Nott’s hands, clammy and inexperienced, touching Potter’s bare skin. 

__

He wondered if this was a test, some plan thought up in Potter’s twisted little mind, some foolhardy attempt to get his attention again. Well if that had been the plan, it had certainly had the desired effect, as he stormed from the staff room in a flurry of robes without saying so much as a goodnight to its other occupants. 

__

He was half way down to the Quidditch pitch before he knew quite where his legs were taking him. His blood pumped angrily though his body, the vein in the side of his neck throbbing threateningly as he was flooded with a sudden rush of adrenaline. 

__

If he’d stopped for just a moment to think about what he was doing, he would have realised just how ridiculous he was being. Storming down the lawns like some scorned ex lover when it had been him who had said no, him who had refused what had been laid so willingly before him. How had he any right to demand a say in who Potter slept with, what was it to him after all. 

_____ _

_____ _

__

In what could only have been mere seconds since his departure from the staff room, he was pulling open the door to the shed and casting a nonverbal Lumos. There was a muffled cursing before Potter’s dishevelled form came into view, leant against the back wall of the shed on one leg trying to pull on a boot. His jean button and fly were agape and his shirt hung open. Nott, luckily for him, was no where to be seen. 

__

Harry looked surprised for a moment, before that arrogant smirk that Snape had seen far too often of late was back on his face. He straightened up, making no attempt to hide his state of undress as he began leisurely fastening up his buttons, his eyes still fixed on Snape. 

__

“Professor” he said in way of greeting, his lip quirked.

__

Snape didn’t answer, as the truth of the situation, though a tad too late, suddenly dawned on him. It had finally occurred to him exactly what this was. It was glaringly obvious now, that he, Severus Snape, was undeniably, unequivocally, jealous. That was the only explanation, and both he and Harry knew it.

__

He clenched his fists hard enough that his nails bit into the flesh of his palms as he took an embarrassingly shaky breath. Harry, who had finally achieved an acceptable level of dress was watching Snape expectantly, squinting slightly under the harsh light of Snape’s wand.

__

“Did you want something?” Harry asked cockily. His self confident bravado doing nothing to conceal the hopefulness in his voice. 

__

Oh Severus wanted something alright. He wanted everything, he wanted Potter in his entirety, body and soul. The question was, how much did he want it and what was he willing to sacrifice to get it.

____

____

__

His self respect? his pride? his dignity? Who was he kidding, he’d lost those years ago, if he’d ever had any to begin with that is. No, that wasn’t what was at stake here. The risks were much higher then that, he was at risk of feeling.

__

He was not an emotional man, or at least he never had been until recently. He had always prized himself on his capacity to be unfeeling, a state that usually came with relative ease after years spent occluding his innermost thoughts from the Dark Lord. Yet here he was, exposed, in all his possessively jealous glory. Allowing himself to express feelings he’d thought he’d locked away for ever. 

__

__

“Do I want something!?” Snape spat, stepping into Harry’s personal space to place his hands on either side of his head, Harry shrinking back against the wall in an unconscious act of submission. “I’m sorry, but it sounds like you believe that you would have a say in the matter Potter. If I want something I’ll take it, so believe me when I say, If I want something you’ll be the first to know.”

_____ _

_____ _

__

Snape stepped back, breathing heavily with barely suppressed anger. “If I so much as see Mr Knott even look in your direction Mr Potter, you’ll both be in detention for the rest of the year. Do I make myself clear?” 

__

“Err.. Crystal” Harry answered hesitantly, caught off guard at Snape’s blatant controlling behaviour.

__

“Then finally we understand each other. Goodnight, Mr Potter.” 

__

“Goodnight Sir” Harry answered, still a little dazed.

__

__

“What the fuck?” Harry voiced aloud, huffing out an indignant breath as the door shut with a heavy clunk and the shed was doused in darkness once more. Who did Snape think be was, bursting in here to tell him who he could and couldn’t fool around with, like he owned him, like he held some sort of power over him. All the while refusing his advances, pushing him away like he was some over eager puppy desperate for attention. 

__

He was also fuming with himself, for not retaliating, for just standing there like a fool while Snape threw the book at him. Is this how things were going to be from now on, Snape back to his cock blocking antics, unwavering in his rejection of Harry’s advances yet unwilling to see him with anyone else.

__

He’d been feeling low, low enough to seek out the company of a Slytherin, and the wrong Slytherin at that. But all Harry knew was that he hadn’t felt any better for it. The initial excitement had soon dissipated leaving an emptiness in the pit of his stomach that had left him wanting. Perhaps that’s how it would be, destined to compare his future lovers to the twisted pleasure experienced at the hands of his middle aged Professor. 

__

He rubbed a hand over his face in exasperation, he was well and truly fucked!

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are still enjoying this and are sticking with it. Thanks as usual for the Kudos and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Harry's going to have to try something new if he's going to get what he wants, so get ready for a change of tactics in the next chapter!


	16. I'm just Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long wait for this chapter so my heartfelt apologies. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!

This was the second time in Severus' entire life in which he had voluntarily let his guard down. The first time had subsequently ended in the death of Harry's mother and father and he wasn't going to have another death on his conscience, no matter what the consequences. 

Potter was a wreck. Stumbling from one bad situation to the next, giving Severus the uncomfortable feeling that history could very well repeat itself. Potter still had enemies out there after all, and not just the death eaters that had resisted arrest after the final battle, but the sympathises, the sons and daughters of Voldemort's followers watching bitterly as their parents rotted away in Azkaban. All of whom had very good reason to want Potter dead. 

But what did Potter do? Shack up with the nearest Slytherin! And it hadn't just been Nott either, it had only been a few months prior that he'd been witness to the unhappy aftermath of young Mr Malfoy's advances, which before they'd taken an unexpectedly violent turn Potter had been all too eager to be at the receiving end of. It definitely seemed like Potter had a type, and current and former Slytherin’s seemed to be at the top of that list. That boy really was a sucker for punishment. 

Why couldn't he just do himself a favour and let himself have an easy life. Take the gift wrapped family and the white picket fence, settle down with the Weasley girl like everyone expected, have a brood of obnoxious ginger offspring and live out the rest of his life in well earned peace. 

But no, this was Potter after all. He'd instead spent the first few months of his new found freedom exonerating former death eaters, engaging in casual sex with middle aged men, drinking like a fish and smoking like a god damn chimney. 

As soon as the Daily Prophet got wind of their saviours not so whiter then white conduct they would have a field day! Perhaps that's what he needed, perhaps it would shock Potter into realising how unhealthy this was, how destructive he was being. 

On the outside Potter was still the life and soul of the party, but on the inside he was falling apart. Crumbling. Trying desperately to hold himself together, with the aid of good old faithful Mr Glen--fiddich or Moray usually, depending on his trusty mail order. All of this whilst starving off the desperate loneliness at the hands of illegitimate strangers was a recipe for disaster. 

This being said the rest of the Christmas break had passed without incident. Snape, who had now returned to taking his meals in the great hall, had reverted back to his favourite pass time of watching Harry like a hawk while he pretended not to notice. 

Potter had been suspiciously un-confrontational since their encounter in the broom shed, but this hadn't stopped Severus from being on the defensive ever since. Every time he thought about how he'd reacted he would cringe inwardly, ashamed at how glaringly obvious he'd been. 

He was determined this time to keep his emotions in check, to not allow Potter to goad him like he'd done so many times before. He need only keep him at bay a little longer and he was bound to loose interest, would be bound to forgot about this silly obsession and direct his affections elsewhere. 

Far from giving up, Harry had merely decided that a change of tactics was in order. He'd seen Snape loose control, had seen the jealous rage that had erupted at the thought of Harry with some one else. He no longer doubted that Snape still wanted him, he'd made it abundantly clear the second he'd flung open the door, but what was also clear now was that Snape was never going to give up control willingly. If anything was to happen between the two of them Snape would have to believe he was in the driving seat, that it was his idea. Harry would have to have Snape come to him, would have to force him to make a move. 

"Harry! HARRY!" Hermione shouted over the crowd of returning students beginning to congregate in the entrance hall. 

Harry looked down from his vantage point on the staircase, waving at Hermione and Ron and signalling for them to come up. 

"Kept out of trouble I hope" said Hermione in way of greeting, joining Harry on the top step and surveying the throng below. 

Harry glanced away and paused before answering, seemingly condemning himself in the process. "I'll take that as a no then" Ron said, panting slightly having dragged both his and Hermione's trunk up the stairs. 

"Erm.. maybe there was a - slight incident" Harry answered guiltily, refusing to meet Ron's eye. 

"Let's hear it then?" said Hermione somewhat threateningly, hand on hip. 

"Well, I-" Harry begun, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and glancing around to check no one was listening in. "I might have been caught by Hooch, - and then Snape, in the Broom shed, fooling around... with Nott."

Ron spluttered "Please tell me I heard that wrong. NOTT? As in - Theodore Nott? Slytherin?“

“Yep, that's the one." Harry mumbled looking around uncomfortably. 

"But...but... he’s a- he’s a... he" Ron finished lamely. 

"Yes Ron. I had noticed."

"So does this mean, that you're, - you know."

"Gay?" Harry finished, choosing to ignore Ron's floundering. 

Harry shrugged, grabbing Hermione's trunk from Ron's limp fingers and heading towards the common room. 

He caught a few words of Hermione's whispered scolding before they followed him, choosing not to let Ron's insensitivity offend him. Ron was likely more miffed that Nott was a Slytherin then the fact he was a man. 

He wasn't even sure why he'd told them. It would have been easier to lie. It wasn't even as though they would have found out elsewhere, but it had just sort of come out. Maybe he'd wanted to shock them he thought to himself, maybe he wanted them to hate him just a little bit, look at him with the disappointment and disgust he thought he deserved. 

It turned out though that Ron wasn't particularly homophobic after all, he'd just taken issue with the thought of Ginny being the one to turn him that way, and after a particularly awkward conversation in which Harry had assured his best friend that sex with his sister was more then satisfactory, they'd agreed to move on from the subject. 

That night, after the rest of the dormitory were asleep, Ron had then asked to Harry's surprise what exactly it was he'd been caught doing. 

"Do you really want to know?" Harry had whispered back. 

"On second thoughts" Ron had said contemplative, "probably not."

The pair had broken into peals of laughter, for a moment reminding Harry of old times, of simpler times. Of times when they'd stay up late into the night with the others in the Dorm, laughing and joking and making plans to sneak down to the kitchens or up to the owlery to meet girls. (neither of which they ever did) 

He lay awake that night thinking of the first time he saw Hogwarts, his first night in the castle, his first night in this very four poster bed. He had laid awake very much the same as he was doing now, but it had been the excitement keeping him from his slumber then. The excitement of this new world, of a new life, of a place that had welcomed him, where he had finally felt accepted.

Accepted was far from how he felt now. Now he felt - conflicted. He spent the majority of his time in a depression fuelled daze, balancing on a knifes edge, so close to just giving up, slipping deeper and deeper, his head barely above water. But then there was the ever increasing portion of his time when he thought about Snape, and for those blissfully distracting moments he felt a little less like he was drowning.  


He found himself saved from submergence by the sliver of hope that maybe things would get better. If only he could reach that piece of happiness floating teasingly just out of reach. So he'd tried to seduce Snape, he'd tried to make him jealous, neither of which had got him very far in the long run. Perhaps he would have to play the long game and just wait for Snape to come to him. 

When he finally fell asleep he dreamt. Dreams that quickly bled into nightmares, the memory of kisses scorching his skin, the trail of rough fingers, then nothing, complete darkness seeping into every corner of his sleeping mind. He was searching, calling out for Snape, then he heard the bloody gurgle of Snape's damaged throat, that noise that still haunted him to this very day. He woke shaking and sweaty, the metallic smell of blood still heavy in his nose. 

He sat up, pulling off his wet t-shirt and casting it aside. Pushing a still shaking hand through his wet hair he swung his legs over the side of the bed, placing his bare feet on the cold stone and taking a deep breath. Other people had died in the battle and the majority of them, unlike Snape, had stayed dead. So why had Snape's death affected him more then anyone else's? 

He pulled his trunk out from under the bed, pulling a jumper on and after a lot of digging, pulled out his almost forgot invisibility cloak. It had been a very long time since he'd used it, he supposed there wasn't much need for it anymore, but if he was to resume his habit of walking the halls at night he supposed he'd better make an exception. He listened to Ron's familiar snores for a moment before leaving the dormitory. He envied Ron sometimes, for the way he seemed to sleep peacefully no matter what.

The common room was dark when he passed through, the last of the dying embers glowing feebly in the fire place. It couldn't be long past midnight judging by the fact the house elves hadn't been by yet. 

He headed for the ground floor, his feet following the familiar path he'd trodden so many times before. The castle was quiet, the only noise was the wind whistling through the many cracks in the old stone walls and the creak of the suits of armour. The torches had long been extinguished and Harry shivered, pulling the cloak tighter around himself. 

The familiarity and the peacefulness of the empty corridors helped to calm his nerves and before long he was stifling a particularly noisy yawn. He sat down atop the second floor staircase, resting his suddenly heavy head against the cold stone balustrade. He could feel the magical hum of the castle when it was quiet like this. Could feel the power pulse and throb like the beating of a heart, its steady thumping rhythm lulling its constant thump... Thump.. Thump.. Thump...

The next thing Harry acknowledged was someone calling his name, the noise sounding distant as his body resisted waking. 

"Potter" someone hissed, "Potter."

Harry stirred slightly, the voice now closer and directly by his ear. 

"Harry.. Harry!" 

Harry woke with a start, wincing as his glasses dug painfully into his face where they had been pressed into the cold brick. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as he opened his eyes still blurry from sleep to look at Snape in confusion. 

He was crouched by his side, hand still on his shoulder where he'd been attempting to rouse him. 

"You called me Harry." 

Snape looked flustered for a moment, gathering his robes around himself he stood up, putting some distance between them. 

Harry straightened up with a groan, the cloak slipping from his knee and onto the step below, it must have fallen off while he slept. He looked up at Snape thoughtfully, wondering what reason the headmaster could have to be roaming the castle at night. He knew Snape still liked to do the patrols but they should have been over long ago. 

"That’s the first time you've ever called me Harry."

Snape, composure now firmly back in place turned to look at him. "It was merely instinct Potter, nothing more. I believed you incapacitated or fatally intoxicated, use of your forename was the most likely to gain me a response. What in merlins name were you even doing down there."

"I couldn't sleep" Harry said getting to his feet. 

"Well you seemed to be doing a pretty good impersonation of someone sleeping to me."

"I meant I couldn't sleep in the dorm, so I thought a walk would help." 

"And rather then return to your dormitory, you thought it prudent to sleep in the corridor?"

"Something like that" Harry answered, stretching his arms above his head, his back cracking loudly. 

Snape winced in sympathy, looking away as Potter's jumper rode up to expose a particularly tempting sliver of skin. He couldn't quite remember when he'd first started thinking of Potter as a sexual being, only that punishing the boy had suddenly become a lot more difficult. Admittedly the boy was handsome, but when had it become more then that. There would always be attractive young men, but usually little things like professionalism and proprietary prevented sex from ever crossing his mind. That being said this was the first time he'd ever been propositioned by an eighteen year old, and the world's very own boy hero at that. They where also significantly past the stage of proposals if what they'd already done together was everything to go by. 

"I'll just head back to bed then" said Harry hopefully, hoping to avoid a detention. 

"Yes Mr Potter, you do that. I'll escort you to the tower, should you be tempted to make any further detours along the way."

"Ok Professor" said Harry smiling. 

"Wipe that grin off your face Potter, or I might decide you deserve a detention after all."

They walked side by side in silence through the empty corridors, their shoulders occasionally brushing but neither stepping apart. The night was a lonely time for both of them and though Snape was loath to admit it he was glad of the company. 

"I want to apologise" said Harry suddenly, stopping abruptly in front of the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy and causing Severus to have to double back a few paces. 

"Apologise? Are you quite sure you are not inebriated Potter."

"I'm sure" Harry replied rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry for the way I’ve been, for the way I reacted. It wasn’t fair of me to push you, I realise that now. I shouldn't have forced myself on you, it was - " 

Now it was Snape's turn to roll his eyes as he interrupted. "Oh my Potter, now you make me feel used."

Harry scoffed "You know what I mean. I know you regret what happened and I should have just accepted that. I know you, and you probably only did what you did in some display of self sacrifice, in attempt at penance."

“You really think that's what it was Potter? Snape asked, suddenly stern. “That I was just doing my civic duty, taking one for the team?" 

"Weren't you?" 

"No Potter, I was not. I take full responsibility for my actions."

"Great, now I feel so much better” said Harry with a hollow laugh. 

He was stopped short by Snape reaching out to take hold of his chin, tilting his face to look up at him. 

"I'm not avoiding you because I feel regret Potter, I'm avoiding you because I don't trust myself around you."

Harry swallowed thickly unable to look away. 

"I have urges" Snape continued, his voice now hurried and desperate, his fingers tightening on Harry's jaw.

"I think –“ Snape began, his expression pained by his confession," that it has always been there, this want, this desire. I crave you like a man suffocating craves air. I've just never realised until late that the past resentment, the hatred, it was all merely a cover up for my shameless denial, my refusal to see that what was right in front of me. 

Harry inhaled sharply, unable to quite believe what Snape was saying, watching in shocked fascination as Snape, fingers now trailing absent minded across his face continued. 

“I finally realised I wasn't keeping you safe under a promise to your parents, or even to Dumbledore but because I wanted you safe, because I needed you safe." 

"If that's true then" Harry half whispered, reaching up to take Snape's hands between his own, “then save me, one last time."

Snape sighed like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. ”But why me? Why on earth would you want me, when you could have anyone, anyone else.”

"I don’t want anyone else” Harry implored." You think the fact I seek you out when I'm at my lowest means your just a distraction, that you were just in the right place at the right time. But has it crossed your brilliant mind for one moment that it might be more then that Severus, that maybe you don't just numb the pain, you dissolve it."

Snape’s eyes softened at the use of his first name. His heart pounding heavily in his chest. "When I close my eyes at the end of the day Severus, I think of you. I dream of you, and when I open my eyes, the first thing I think of, is you. You make me feel safe in a way I’ve never felt before, you make me feel wanted."  


“There's plenty of people who want you... Harry.”  


“Not in the way I want, not in the way I need.”

“But what will people think” Snape muttered, pulling away from Harry to brush a hand though his hair in frustration. 

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks!” Harry cried, his voice was wavering and Snape noticed his eye's glittering with unshed tears. “It’s you Snape! It's always been you! I didn't know how to deal with how I felt at first, I hated how you got under my skin, how easily you could read me. I felt threatened, scared to allow you in. You understand, you've always understood. With you, I'm not the chosen one, I'm not a hero, I’m just.... I'm just Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. All feedback welcome.


	17. You’ve got to make some sacrifices

Severus couldn’t say how long they stood together in the darkness, neither wanting to be the one to break the silence that was holding them in this moment. Hearing those words spill from Harry’s mouth, confirming everything Severus had ever dared to hope, everything he’d dared to dream, and to speak now would almost certainly bring reality crashing down around him. Would expose this for everything it was, a dream, it had to be.

He could see the hope in Harry's eyes as he waited for Severus to say something, to say anything. Usually a man of many words, Severus was finding it unusually difficult to select even one from the vast catalogue of his vocabulary; and in an uncharacteristic display of ineloquence, he opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. But before he could even begin to put his feelings into words, a bright light dashed down the corridor in the form of Minerva’s silver, tabby cat Patronus which began to portray a message, her voice, stern yet soft, echoing loudly in the otherwise empty corridor.

“Severus, there are Aurors looking for you in my office, you’d better come quickly.”

“Aurors?!” Harry hissed the moment McGonagall’s guardian disappeared. “You don’t think that they – “

“No Potter, I don’t,” Snape answered firmly, his voice steady but his expression uneasy. “Now return to your dormitory at once. We will resume this conversation – another time.”

Harry lingered a moment, reluctant to part like this when they finally seemed to be getting somewhere.

“Now!” Snape snapped, turning on his heel and marching in the direction of Minerva’s office.

“What seems to be the problem gentlemen?” Snape asked silkily, sidling into the room. The Aurors were known as dark wizard catchers for a reason and their presence did not bode well.

There was six of them, which Severus had to admit was slightly worrying, as was the hour of their visit. Six Aurors didn’t enter Hogwarts at the dead of night to make simple enquires, they were here to make an arrest, that much was clear. This was made clearer still by the restlessness his arrival had produced and the flexing and un-flexing of the Aurors wand hands. They expected him to put up a fight, that much was certain.

“Severus Snape?” asked the Auror closest, as if everyone in the room wasn’t already aware of his identity.

“ _Professor_ Severus Snape, yes” Snape answered haughtily.

“We have been issued with a warrant for your arrest _Mr_ Snape” mocked the Auror with a sneer. “It would be in everyone’s best interests, if you came quietly Sir.”

“An arrest!?” Minerva spluttered, who was sat behind her desk looking in confusion at their exchange. “This is an outrage, you must be mistaken, Severus is the Headmaster of this school, what are his charges?”

“We would prefer to discuss that back at the Ministry madam, now if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Don’t you _madam_ me!” Minerva shouted standing up with a crackle of magic. “Don’t you worry Severus, I’ll fire call the Minister first thing, he’ll sort out this misunderstanding, I’m sure of it.”

“Yes, you do that Minerva” Snape drawled, suddenly finding his hands magically bound and his wand snatched from his possession. He had a feeling there would be very little Kingsley Shacklebolt would be able to do about this.

“Harry, you seem awfully distracted this morning, is everything okay?” asked Hermione concerned.

Ron looked up from his avalanche of sausage and eggs to look over at Harry, evidently surprised to be told his best friend wasn’t his usually peachy self as he’d clearly presumed.

“I’m fine. Just wondering why Snape isn’t at breakfast is all.”

“W..Why?” said Ron thickly around a mouthful of breakfast, his face screwed up in confusion.

“Because I wanted to ask if he wanted pancakes” answered Harry dryly, eyes darting between the staff table and the door.

“Jeez, I only asked” Ron replied, his mouth now empty.

“I just need to speak to McGonagall” Harry said suddenly, as the teachers began drifting out of the Great Hall. “Just give me a minute, I’ll see you in potions.”

“Professor... Professor... PROFESSOR!” Harry shouted at McGonagall’s retreating form as she swept down the corridor in conversation with Professor Sinistra.

“Yes Potter?” she answered, turning on the spot and allowing Harry to catch her up.

Harry paused for a moment as the corridor emptied of remaining teachers, suddenly realising how strange it would sound to be heard enquiring after Snape’s whereabouts.

“I was just wondering, erm.. if you’d seen Snape..”

“That’s _Professor_ Snape, Harry” McGonagall corrected.

“Right, yeah, of course, Professor Snape. Any idea where I might - find him.”

“Why?” said McGonagall suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Harry stood dumbstruck for a moment as his blank mind tried to come up with a feasible explanation for why he was searching for his supposedly hated professor.

“I.. I.. Erm.. Its just that I was.. .”

“Yes?”

“I’ll just see him in class actually” Harry finished, turning to head back down the corridor.

“No you won’t Potter, as he won’t be there. With me. My office. Now.”

Professor McGonagall was stood behind Dumbledore’s desk, **wrong** Harry thought, behind _her_ desk. Hands on hips and lips thinned threateningly, she made quite the picture of indignation.

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do Potter” she said, gesturing that Harry should take a seat before sitting in Dumbledore’s, **no** _her_ , chair. “Perhaps you could shed some light on the situation Mister Potter. Why, pray tell, was the Headmaster arrested last night, escorted from the castle by six Aurors, and why when I told them there had clearly been some misunderstanding, did Severus look as though he was being led away to the gallows?”

“Oh, - shit!” Harry whispered sitting down with a thud, his head dropping into his hands.

“Oh shit indeed Mr Potter” sighed McGonagall, causing Harry to look up in shock at her use of language.

“What in the name of Merlin has he got himself into this time? And please don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me, I know you know Potter, that much is obvious. I’ve seen the way you two have been with each other since the start of term, constantly in each others pockets, the extra detentions, the late night rendezvous. This has got something to do with _you_ Potter hasn’t it? Speak!”

“Yes! And it’s all my fault!” Harry muttered, pushing his fingers though his hair and tugging in desperation. Looking up at McGonagall she could see the panic and the guilt in his eyes, could see the regret and the torment overwhelming him as she suddenly felt guilty for ambushing him.

“Tell me Harry, please. Tell me everything.”

He didn’t know where to start. He twisted his hands uncomfortably in his lap before looking up and meeting McGonagall’s kind brown eyes. He’d always found something comforting in her presence, from the very first time he’d met her as a scared first year. He remembered the firm, yet reassuring hand that she had placed on his shoulder upon welcoming him to Gryffindor House, the same reassuring hand she had granted on many an occasion since. She had never been the mothering type, certainly not compared with the likes of Mrs Weasley, but she had always looked out for him, always wanting the best for him.

“I don’t know how to begin Professor.”

“I find the beginning is always a good place to start Mr Potter.”

“Well, I suppose it started after the war. I was struggling to – deal with it I guess. The aftermath. I started acting out , drinking too much, smoking – putting myself in danger.”

“In danger?” McGonagall asked.

Harry looked away, wondering how to put it into words without him sounding as tragic as he really was.

“I suppose I felt I needed to suffer, or that’s what he keeps telling me was my reason” said Harry, huffing out a breath.

“Who?” asked Minerva in confusion. “Severus?”

“Yes, Severus" Harry confirmed, noticing the twitch of McGonagall’s eyebrow at the use of his first name.

“I became careless” Harry continued, looking down at his feet. “I spent the summer after the war looking for penance I suppose. I’d meet – men, in bars, lead them on, sometimes I’d put out, other times I wouldn’t, just to get a rise, start a fight.”

McGonagall’s face took on a pained expression as realisation washed over her, replaced with the pitying look Harry was trying so hard to avoid.

“Harry, if I’d have had any idea at all that you felt this way. If any of us had known.”

Harry held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t, you couldn’t have known Professor, no one did. I did a good job of hiding it, even from Ron and Hermione, it was just easier that way. I just hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to fool Snape, the wool wasn’t so easily pulled over his eyes” said Harry with a sad smile. “He’s always seen right through me.”

McGonagall nodded in silent agreement. “He never misses a trick does Severus, though he can be surprisingly short sighted when it really matters.”

Harry laughed inwardly, she didn’t know the half of it.

“Now tell me to mind my own business Harry but you said – _men_. It’s just I presumed you and Ginevra were still. ..”

“Yeah, everyone does” said Harry with a sigh. “But I figured out pretty soon after the war that we weren’t right for each other, that well, no woman would ever be right.”

“Ah” said Minerva with a surprising amount of understanding. “But I’m still confused, where does Severus fit into all this?”

“Right, yeah” answered Harry, straightening up in his chair. “Well I.. I got myself into a pretty bad situation one night over the summer, in London. I’d been drinking, drinking a lot actually. I was on my own, stupid I know, and I met this guy. He seemed okay at first you know, we had a laugh, flirted a little.”

At this Minerva’s cheeks turned a little pink but she held her gaze and encouraged Harry to continue.

“So we were outside a bar, fooling around, and he tried to take it too far. I asked him to stop – and then I left. But he followed me, and and..”

Harry’s voice began to waver, he stopped and took a deep breath, his leg had began to shake and he couldn’t seem to stop it from bouncing against the underside of the desk.

“He didn’t.. ?” asked McGonagall anxiously.

“No.. But he tried” Harry said softly, unable to meet her gaze. “... And he would have, had Snape not been there and put a stop to it.”

“Thank goodness” said McGonagall relieved “though I fear that was not the end of it was it, not if I know Severus as well as I think I do.”

“No Professor, that wasn’t the end of it. I was really drunk and Snape took me back to his house..”

Minerva suddenly looked stern.

“No no! Nothing like that” said Harry hurriedly. “He was actually really nice. He let me sleep on the sofa, and after that he tried to help me, even though I made it really difficult for him, he really tried. But it wasn’t until weeks later when I read about it in the prophet that I found out what he’d done that night, whilst I slept on his couch. Nick, that was his name. He was in the prophet after he was found, someone had – altered his mind. Used dark magic to inflict these horrific hallucinations, caused him to loose his mind and memory all together.”

“Oh my,” said Minerva in sudden realisation. “I remember seeing the ministry officials, but Severus assured me they were merely making enquiries. I read the article myself. That was the man who tried to ..?”

“Yeah, that was him. At first I was mad with Snape, shocked at what he’d done, but then I realised that in his mind he was just looking out for me, defending my honour” Harry said with a dry laugh. “But now he’s been arrested and its all my fault and I don’t know what to do!”

“Harry..” said McGonagall, standing up to round the desk and place that comforting hand on his shoulder “You’re not telling me everything are you?”

Harry looked up at her, contemplating telling the truth, then before he could think of all the reasons why he really shouldn’t be saying this, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I think.. Professor, I think I might love him, and if he could be honest with himself and allow himself to be happy, I think Severus loves me too.”

“Oh Harry!” sighed Minerva, bringing up her free hand to rest on his other shoulder where she squeezed them reassuringly. “All I want for you and for Severus is for you to be happy, and though I must admit it to be quite the unusual match I couldn’t say it wouldn’t make me happy to see the pair of you together” she said with a smile. “Though I’m not entirely sure the rest of the wizarding world will be quite so forgiving.”

“No” agreed Harry, trying to wipe his eyes discreetly with the sleeve of his robe. “I don’t imagine they will be.”

“Right then!” said Minerva, giving Harry’s shoulders a last pat and moving away, “what are we going to do then?”

Harry got to his feet, scrubbing the backs of his hands over his reddening eyes and swallowing heavily. “Right okay, well I’m going to the Ministry then” said Harry, with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“You have thought about this though Harry, if you go to the Ministry you will have to tell them why he did what he did. It will undoubtedly become public knowledge, are you prepared for that.”

Harry looked panicked for a moment at the prospect, but then his expression hardened.” If it means Severus is set free, I’m prepared to do anything.”

“Right you are then Harry, what are we waiting for.”

“We?” Said Harry confused.

“Well you didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun did you. Lead the way please Mr Potter.”

Harry had become very well acquainted with the Ministry as of late, and knew the exact location of the holding cells where they would be keeping Severus. It was early still and the atrium was buzzing with a steady flow of morning commuters as Harry stepped up to the security desk, Minerva smiling serenely at his shoulder.

“Just a moment please” came a muffled voice from beneath the desk as a young wizard with what looked like a bad case of the dragon pox emerged holding a box that was smoking.

“Oh, Mr Potter, he said in surprise. “My apologies, to what do we owe this pleasure.”

Harry stepped forward, drawing himself to his full height, which at 5 foot 8 wasn’t quite as imposing as he’d hoped for, but still, he’d defeated Voldemort after all and that certainly counted for something.

“You’re holding a prisoner, and I’d like to speak to who ever is in charge about his release” said Harry firmly.

“Of course Sir, Madam” the security officer said, jerking his body in an awkward half nod, half bow before turning the ‘be right back’ sign over on his desk and motioning for them to follow him.

They were lead down to the 10th floor and to the ministry detention area, which although no longer guarded by dementors was shrouded in a seemingly impenetrable cold darkness.

“If you could just wait here for me please” asked the security wizard as they reached the end of the circular corridor and he disappeared through a heavy metal door.

He re-emerged a few seconds later with a man in scarlet Auror robes who Harry instantly recognised as Head Auror Robards who had overseen the war trials. He waited until the security wizard had rounded the corner on his way back to the atrium before speaking.

“Mr Potter, Professor,” greeted Robards. “How can I be of assistance?”

“I’m here for Snape Robards, where is he?”

“I’m sorry Mr Potter but I’m not at liberty to say. Severus Snape is currently in custody awaiting trial, as you well know” Robards said, now addressing McGonagall. “His charges, as you were told last night were not to be discussed.”

“We already know the charges!” Harry said angrily stepping into Robards personal space. “Charges which you will drop, after you hear what I have to say. Now lead the way to the interview rooms please” Harry said in mock politeness.

“This way then Mr Potter, Professor if you would be so kind as to wait here.”

“This interview is being recorded, and may be given in evidence, we are in interview room 12, the date is the 17th of November 1998 and the time by my watch is .... 09:37. I am head of the Auror office, Gawain Robards, please state your name and date of birth for the tape.”

“Harry James Potter, 31st of July 1980.”

“Great, let’s begin then shall we Mr Potter, you said you have information relating to prisoner Severus Snape’s defence. Is that correct?”

“Yes sir” said Harry, clearing his throat.

“Well let’s hear it then? Though I’m unsure as to what you could possibly say which would explain or excuse the despicable crimes your headmaster has been accused of” said Robards disapprovingly.

“Well –“ said Harry a little uncertainly, “it’s like this.”

Harry had never played the victim in his life, but the look on Robards face after he’d told him his story made him wonder if that was still entirely true. Robards was known for his ruthlessness, unrelenting always in his quest for justice. But something about Harry’s tale had seemed to move him enough to compel him to release Snape with immediate effect, much to Harry’s suprise.

“Oh, and Mr Potter” said Robards, extending a hand “you should know the Ministry and the entire Wizarding World will be forever in your debt. We can never repay you for what you did for us, but if there’s ever anything you need, anything at all, just ask. Severus Snape will be released of course, free of all charges, by lunch time. Now Mr Hitchin,” Robards added, voice low and with a glance at the extinguished green light on the tape recorder, “will be dealt with accordingly of course, if he ever regains his memory that is.”

Harry nodded solemnly, standing to shake Robards extended hand and allowing him to escort him back out into the corridor where McGonagall was still waiting. She got to her feet, poised and ready for a fight if needed, but was placated by Harry’s reassuring smile and fell into step beside him without saying a word.

Harry waited till they were out of earshot and in the safety of the lift before he spoke. “They’ve cleared him of all charges and said they’ll release him later today.”

“That’s brilliant” said Minerva with a smile.

“Yeah” agreed Harry, “now let’s just hope he appreciates it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies yet again for the wait, we are coming to the end now so let's hope our boys get their happy ever after. As usual let me know what you think and thanks for reading.


	18. Mischief managed

Harry took great pleasure in the look of astonishment on Severus’ face when he stepped out of the Ministry into the dazzling brightness and spotted Harry leaning casually against the nearest lamppost.

Neither did he miss the upturn of his lips when he finally put two and two together and made a beeline for where Harry was standing.

“I suppose I have _you_ to thank for this then” said Snape, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at Harry as though he hadn’t just saved him from a particularly long stint in Azkaban.

Harry looked up at him innocently, failing miserably to keep the grin from his face. “No” said Harry, suddenly serious. “I’ve got _you_ to thank, for everything.”

Severus frowned in confusion, “what on earth could you possibly want to thank _me_ for?”

“For caring, and for not giving up on me, even when I gave you ever reason to.”

Severus grunted in acknowledgement, looking around uncomfortably. “I’m surprised Minerva isn’t with you, I presume she knows that you’re here.”

“Oh, she was here,” said Harry with a smile, “and quite disappointed she was too when Robards didn’t need any _extra persuasion_.”

Snape barked out an involuntary laugh and Harry was taken aback for a moment by the rare sight. The dazzling winter sun made Snape look younger, more carefree, more – _human_. 

“You should do that more often” said Harry brightly. 

“Do what?” 

“Smile.”

Snape rolled his eyes before looking fondly at Harry. “Enough with the sentimentality Mr Potter, people will talk.”

“Let them” said Harry stepping closer, ignoring Snape’s protests. “We both know this will be all-over the Daily Prophet this time tomorrow anyway.”  
  
Snape paused as though suddenly realising what Harry was risking by being here, what he’d sacrificed by talking to the Ministry. “You didn’t need to do that, you know the likes of Rita Skeeter will have a field day with this.”

“I know” said Harry, still smiling. 

“and it doesn’t bother you?“

“No, not anymore, let her do her worst, I can see it now ‘Harry Potter the damsel in distress’ and ‘Severus Snape the gallant Knight’ riding to his rescue to save the poor maidens honour.”

Snape snorted in disbelief. “I was under the impression that the ‘Maidens’ _honour_ was past saving long before I came along” he said a little bitterly. 

“Always thinking the worst” Harry simpered grasping the front of Snape’s robes. “I’d hate to deprive you of your one purpose in life after all.”

“And what would that be” Snape purred leaning down, his lips now a hairs breadth from Harry’s. 

“To keep me out of trouble of course.”

“Oh, of course, you just don’t give up do you Potter.”

“Well some things are worth fighting for.”

“Then it’s a good job you make a rather sweet damsel in distress then isn’t it Mr Potter, but the question is; who’s going to save you from me?” 

Harry smiled widely before Snape finally closed the distance and pressed his lips to Harry’s. Then with a familiar tug they were spinning away from London and back to Hogwarts, landing a little clumsily outside the gates owing to the fact that they were still rather preoccupied with one another. 

Snape had to pull Harry in even closer to stop his buckling knees from bringing them both to the ground, gripping his elbows tight he rested his forehead against Harry’s, taking in a few deep breaths before leaning back to meet his eyes. 

“As your headmaster, I feel it my duty to inform you that you should be in class Mr Potter” said Snape making no attempt to let Harry go. 

“And as your student, I should tell you that I've only missed Potions, and since you've been otherwise – engaged, I shouldn’t imagine I’ve missed too much” Harry replied cheekily. 

“Ah, but I fear you will have missed far too much already” Snape said silkily “though I could be persuaded to let you make up your time. “ 

“Severus Snape!” said Harry in mock astonishment, “Are you flirting with me?” 

Snape pretended to consider this for a moment. “Yes, it would seem that I am. Now get in the castle and to the dungeons before I change my mind.” With that Snape slapped Harry on the behind in a way Harry could only describe as playful before striding up to the castle with a spring in his step, Harry, not quite believing his luck running to keep up. 

The school grounds were quiet except for a small group of 8th years who were enjoying a rare free period by the lake, none of which noticed, or seemed to care much when their Headmaster and Harry Potter walked up from the gates and into the entrance Hall. 

“You know this is a terrible idea though right’ said Snape taking Harry’s arm now they were in the safety of the castle and steering him towards the dungeons. 

“I’ll be the judge of that” said Harry with a predatory smile . 

“Harry!?” came a voice from the top of the stairs as Ron and Hermione came into view, Hermione laden down with books was clearly on her way back from the library. They halted in their steps to gape at the pair of them as Harry gave them a cheery wave and tried to continue down the corridor. 

“W..w..wait!” Ron spluttered, rushing down the steps. “Where have you been – and where are you going now?”

“Oh, well, it turns out Snape did want pancakes after all” said Harry with a grin, turning his back on Ron as he kept walking, Snape trailing confusedly behind him. 

“Should I ask what that was all about” said Snape, as Ron watched slack mouthed as the two of them rounded the corner out of sight. 

“Probably not” said Harry with a laugh. 

They arrived at Snape’s quarters without further incident, though all the will in the world would have been unlikely to keep them apart by this point. Severus felt giddy, like a teenager, or at least what he imagined teenagers to feel like. Admittedly as a teenager himself he’d had little experience in that department, if one didn’t count being groomed by an over eager Lucius Malfoy. 

Shaking away the memory of a seventeen year old Lucius he disabled the wards and pushed open the doors to his rooms, ushering Harry inside and turning the lock. 

“Bed. Clothes off. Now,” Snape instructed, toeing off his shoes at the door and draping his cloak over the chair with feigned stoicism. 

“Yes sir!” said Harry with a salute, remembering the way to the bedroom. 

“And if you’re not completely naked by the time I get in there Potter, I’ll rip every item of clothing off your body myself, and make you return to your dormitory in the nude.”

“What makes you think I’m ever returning to the dormitory’s?” said Harry, turning in the doorway to Severus’ bedroom to make a show of pulling off his shirt. “Now I’ve finally got in here, I’m making no plans to leave.”

Severus was momentarily distracted by the yards of golden skin being revealed but a few quick steps in Harry’s direction soon had him scurrying into the bedroom to shuck the rest of his clothes. 

He made Harry wait a few moments by noisily straightening things out in the sitting room before Harry’s voice, impatient and bordering irritated came floating through the open door. Snape smiled. 

“What in Merlin’s saggy balls are you doing out there Snape!”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I keeping you waiting Dear” Snape mocked, thoroughly enjoying a worked up Harry. 

“Did you just call me – dear?” 

“- Yes.”

“Call me it again” Harry said a little breathlessly. 

Severus snorted and finally came into the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the bedroom and his breath hitching. This was the third time he had seen Harry undressed, but it was the first time he had been able to really appreciate it, been allowed to simply look, to enjoy it. Harry was spread out on the bed, on Severus’ bed, his bare skin brushing against his sheets and his hair spread out on the pillow. 

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows when Severus came into the room, looking at him intently and sitting back on the bed in invitation. “Are you just going to stand there and stare Severus, or are you going to join me?”

Severus’ gaze was hungry as he drunk in the sight that was a naked Harry Potter. Salivating at the thought of his hands on all that exposed skin he stepped up to the bed. “You were right, for once in your life” said Severus casually, pulling off his shirt and popping the button on his trousers. 

“I was?” 

“Yes, you’re never going back to your dormitory.”

Harry laughed as the bed dipped with Snape’s weight, waiting with baited breath as he crawled achingly slowly to where Harry was sitting, waiting. 

He knelt above Harry, his shirt discarded on the floor and his trousers, now open, rid precariously low on his slim hips. He lowered himself on to his forearms, Harry noticing the way the muscles of his arms flexed and his hands sunk into the mattress on either side of his body. He swallowed hard, unable to look away as Snape eyed him languidly. 

“You’re trembling” Snape whispered, reaching up to brush a hand across Harry’s cheek. 

Severus could sense no hesitation in Harry’s eyes so he leant down and kissed him, smiling when he felt Harry melt against him. It felt different this time, just as passionate, but not nearly as frantic. They had all the time in the world now and it meant something this time, it was going somewhere. 

There was no doubt about who was in charge now as Snape pressed his body against Harry’s, all sharp lines and sinewy muscle. He pushed a hand into Harry’s hair and tugged, prompting a groan from the man who tilted his head back, mouth slack. 

Taking advantage of this temporary distraction Severus latched onto his neck, trailing his lips, then tongue, down the side of his neck to suck in the hollow of his collarbone. Harry inhaled with a contented sigh, his senses flooded with the familiar scent that was all Snape.

Snape sat up, taking Harry’s glasses from his face and placing them gently on the night stand, Harry squinting slightly up at him in the most charming way. Then Snape’s mouth was back on his, his tongue pushing into his open mouth sending a jolt down to his already hardening cock. 

Harry moaned into the kiss, thrusting shamelessly against Snape’s clothed leg which he had inserted between his thighs. He lowered his hands from where they were currently clutching at Snape’s back to his hips, hooking his fingers into the waist band of his pants and trousers and pushing them down. He arched his back to allow Harry to slip them over his arse, grunting at the drag of fabric over his dick. 

Kicking them off his legs and over the end of the bed they were both finally naked, a fact that Snape was made startlingly aware of when Harry’s wandering hands started kneading his exposed arse. He’d almost forgotten what Harry’s body felt like pressed against his, skin to skin, cock to cock. 

“You’d better not decide you regret this again” warned Harry against Snape’s lips. 

“I won’t” said Snape running his hands along Harry’s firm stomach and up to his nipples, leaning down to take one into his mouth and silencing Harry in the process. “You have my word.” 

“So - ” said Snape a little flustered, reaching into the bedside draw to pull out a well placed bottle of lubricant. “How do you want to do this?”

“I dunno” said Harry a little dazed, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. 

“How have you done it before?” asked Snape, not meeting his eye. As much as he didn’t want to think about Harry having sex with other men he wanted to make sure he was comfortable, he didn’t want to hurt him.

“I.. haven’t” Harry mumbled. 

“Sorry?” 

Harry chanced a glance up at Snape who was now looking at him puzzled.” I said I haven’t – done it before.” 

Snape scoffed, “You expect me to believe that?” 

“Believe what you want. It’s true.” 

“But.. all those other men, you mean to say you never –“ 

“No” said Harry in earnest.

“But why an earth not?” Snape asked, sitting back on his knees to study Harry. 

“I never – wanted to I suppose. Not really.” 

“Let me guess, you were saving yourself for someone special” said Snape, half mocking half hoping. 

“Yeah” sad Harry with a smile “something like that.” 

“Well” Snape drawled, pushing Harry’s hands above his head and laying himself flush against his body, “you can rest assured that I will take great pleasure from being the one to despoil you then Mr Potter.” 

Harry shivered, his whole body shaking with the force of it, his cock twitching in interest where it lay hot against Severus’ thigh. 

“And you can be sure-“ Snape whispered with a growl, “that your honour and virtue will be well and truly tarnished when I’m through with you – dear. “

“Is that a threat?” asked Harry with a moan, struggling half heartedly against the hands holding him down and groaning when Severus held him harder. 

“It’s a promise” Snape whispered, before he pushed himself down the bed and sucked Harry’s half hard cock into his mouth, his eyes glinting up at Harry in amusement at the hiss of breath that slipped from his lips. 

The last coherent thought Harry had was what a stark contrast this was to their last encounter. What with Snape’s warm body above him, and the soft silk of the bed below him, compared with the cold concrete of Snape’s office floor he felt like he was floating. 

Harry tired to keep his hips still as Snape moved up and down his cock with surprising finesse, staring up at the canopy of Snape’s four poster bed wondering how an earth he had fallen in love with Severus bloody Snape! 

He was going to come thought Harry suddenly as Snape sucked hard on the end of his cock and rubbed relentlessly at the sensitive skin behind his balls. But then as quickly as he’d started he pulled off with an obscene pop, his lips quirked and glistening. 

Harry was panting, his pulse racing ridiculously fast for someone laying on their back. Severus began kissing along his knee, nipping at the inside and running his fingers up his quivering thighs. He stuttered out a breath as he heard Snape uncork the lube and bend one of his legs up to his chest. 

“Is this okay?” Snape asked, sounding nearly as breathless as Harry.

“Yeah” Harry answered, his hips shifting impatiently, he wasn’t nervous, he knew Severus wouldn’t hurt him. Then Snape was pushing a well oiled finger inside him and it felt uncomfortable, but not painful.

“You would probably be better on your knees” said Snape thoughtfully. “Admittedly it’s a little – impersonal, but it should ensure the experience isn’t entirely without pleasure.”

“You’re thinking too much” said Harry, placing his free foot down on the mattress and baring down on Snape’s finger with a satisfied grunt. It was an unfamiliar feeling but not unpleasant and with a little bit of manoeuvring on Snape’s part his cock was soon back to attention. 

Then Snape was pushing in another finger, all the while rubbing soothing circles into his hip and accompanied by a persistent stream of dirty talk, which although this wasn’t their first rodeo, had taken Harry quite by surprise. Harry had always known Snape to be an expressive sort of man, but there was something about those filthy promises being spoken to Harry in that silken, sexy drawl, that had his toes curling. 

With Harry’s encouragement Snape began scissoring his fingers, and when he was certain Harry was ready he oiled his own dripping cock, giving himself a few slick strokes as Harry watched with interest from raised elbows. 

“You’re sure you wouldn’t prefer -?” Snape asked, indicating Harry turnover. 

“No, I want to be able to watch you fuck me.”

Snape swallowed audibly, his pupils dilating as he pulled one of Harry’s legs over his shoulder and lined up his cock. “You’ll be at no odds as to who’s fucking you Mr Potter, have no doubt about that.”

Harry groaned, partly at the promise, partly due to Snape’s cock finally pushing inside him. He started slow, just a gradual rock of his hips until he was fully inside and Harry was begging him to move. He thrust his hips lazily at first, watching Harry’s face for any sign of discomfort and finally picking up the pace when Harry started scrabbling at his back and rising up to meet each thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re tight” Snape cursed, pulling away slightly to watch in bewilderment as his own cock slid in and out of Harry’s willing body. 

“Harder, I’m not going to break” Harry moaned, spreading his legs and rocking down onto Severus’ cock, his forehead and upper lip shimmering in the dim light with a thin sheen of sweat. His own cock, firm and flush against his stomach was bouncing with every one of Severus’ thrusts. 

“You have no idea- how sinful you look” Snape whispered in awe, leaning down to capture Harry’s lips in a kiss, swallowing down his frantic breaths. 

Harry looked up at Severus, his eyes lust filled and wild as he took Severus’ head between his hands, whispering words into his mouth which Severus struggled to interpret at first until the blood stopped pounding in his ears. Then Severus could hear him chanting “thank you, thank you, thank you” the words sounding almost mantric in their repetition. 

Severus took a deep breath before pounding into Harry harder, they were neither going to last long that much had been obvious from the start, but it still took Snape by surprise when he thrust one more time and spilled himself inside Harry with a guttural groan. 

Then with a few hard strokes to Harry’s cock and a particularly vicious snap of Severus’ hips, Harry found himself coming too, and with it came crashing down every well constructed wall he’d ever built, and suddenly hot tears were running freely down his cheeks.  
  
“Harry, you’re crying” said Severus in surprise, pulling gently from his body and reaching up to hold his face between gentle hands. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, no” said Harry shaking his head and trying to turn his face from Severus’ grip. 

“Then what it is?” 

“I don’t know” said Harry, encouraging Severus onto his back and curling against his side, his wet face pressed against his still heaving chest. “I suppose... I’ve just never felt this – content before. This wanted. It’s just nice, you know. I’m being rediculous aren’t I?” he said with a sniff. 

“Never” said Snape, twisting to kiss him deeply. “I’m never going to let you feel worthless again Harry, do you hear me, never. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and anyone that ever tries to come between us will feel the consequences.”

Harry sniffed again, then laughed. “I think you’ve done enough already Severus, if today is anything to go by. But I can assure you that you won’t have to, my days of looking for trouble are over. I have all the trouble that I need right here after all.”

“Brat” said Snape affectionately, wandlessly turning out the lamps and summoning up the blankets. 

“Git” said Harry in reply, closing his eyes with a smile. 

Now Snape was not a sentimental man, not by any stretch of the imagination, but laying here in the dark with an armful of warm and sated Harry Potter, he wondered to himself if this is what it felt like to be truly happy.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for reading. Feel free to drop me a comment and let me know what you think. Thinking of doing some short one shots after this is finished.


	19. All was well

Harry couldn’t recall the last time he’d woken up naturally, the kind of waking when you’re body resists and you open your eyes reluctantly, often accompanied with a satisfied stretch. Well that was how Harry found himself waking now, it had still been the middle of the day when he’d fallen asleep but he’d felt so at peace, so relaxed, that he’d found himself falling asleep almost instantly in Severus’ bed. 

Speaking of which Harry heard a chuckle to his left and cracked open an eye to glance disapprovingly over his shoulder at the man. He could just make out Snape’s outline in the darkness of the room without his glasses, sat up against the head board, book open on his lap, wand tip lit. 

“What time is it?” asked Harry thickly, turning over with a wince, more due to the stickiness gluing his thighs together then any real discomfort. 

“Nearly dinner time” Snape answered, shutting his book and turning on the lamps. 

“So how is this going to work?” Harry asked, sliding a warm hand over Severus’ waist “we’ve probably got about – 12 hours till the Prophet no doubt gets hold of our story.”

Snape looked thoughtful for a minute, “I suppose we play it cool, wait to see what the damage is before we condemn ourselves.”

“Condemn ourselves? Severus we haven’t done anything wrong you know.”

“I’m not saying we have” Snape reassured, laying a hand on Harry’s bare shoulder who shivered at the touch, goose bumps rising on his exposed skin. “But I’m still your teacher, and that’s even if we overlook the startling fact that I was a Death Eater and that you are Harry bloody Potter.”

“Oh.. Am I?” said Harry sarcastically, his eyes narrowed at Snape. 

“Enough with your dramatics, you know what I meant. It’s important that you remain here to finish your studies, you know that Harry, and after you’ve tried so hard to overcome your struggles I won’t let it be for nothing. Then once you graduate, we can do what ever we like, but I will not be the one responsible for your education being put on hold, believe it or not I want you to fulfil your potential, make something of yourself.”

Harry looked taken aback for a moment at the sincerity and compassion behind Snape’s words. “But you said it yourself Severus, I’m Harry _Bloody_ Potter, what further potential could I possibly have.”

“Now we both know that isn’t true, being the Boy who lived, the Chosen One, was no more your choice then it was for you to be related to the Dursley’s Harry. But the difference is, now it’s time to start making your own choices, and all the more reason to ensure you leave Hogwarts with 9 outstanding Newts. 

Harry snorted “outstanding? Chance would be a fine thing, unless you’re grading includes extra curricular activities Severus I don’t quite think I’ll be making the mark.”

“You never know Mr Potter, there’s still time before you sit your exams and I could be pursued to offer a little extra private tuition, to the right candidate of course.”

Harry feigned a scandalous look “Why Professor, that seems awfully unethical!” 

“Oh of course, I almost forgot what a stickler you are for the rules Potter, you’d better do all the work yourself then, I’d hate to be accused of favouritism. And wipe that smug smile off your face before you go anywhere near the Great Hall! You couldn’t look more like you ‘ _just got some_ ’ if you tried.”

Harry laughed before swinging his legs out of bed and treating Severus to his naked walk to the bathroom. “You know I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks about us right.” 

Severus suddenly found it hard to disagree as he watched Potter’s peachy arse disappear through the door.

After a much longer shower then anticipated, due to Severus’ insistence on seeing to it personally that every inch of Harry was sparkling clean, they emerged into the entrance hall for dinner. Harry hung back in the foyer for a minute as Snape made his way to the staff table, Minerva greeting him with enthusiasm. Severus sat down with a nod to Professor McGonagall, conscious of Ron and Hermione’s suspicious stares. He met Mr Weasley’s eye with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, if he was being completely honest he was quite looking forward to Weasley finding out about the two of them, if only to be able to bare witness to the obvious discomfort it would cause. 

His eye was drawn over to Harry as he entered the Great Hall, who was fighting down a blush at Severus’ obvious scrutiny, _who was being obvious now_! Harry thought to himself eyes trained on the ground. 

“Harry?” Hermione whispered frantically, as Harry sat down as casually as possible beside her, her voice trembled as she spoke and she sounded scared. “Have you been down in the dungeons – this whole time? We couldn’t – find you at lunch?” 

Ron, who was not eating, was looking nervously from Harry and then up to the staff table at Snape, who it seemed was not helping Harry’s cause in the slightest. Harry swallowed heavily before answering, presuming no comment was not an option he opted for evasive tactics instead, with the faint hope they might leave it at that. 

“Yeah, I was. So what did I miss this morning then?” 

“Err.. Why mate?” asked Ron in bewilderment, ignoring Harry’s change of subject. 

“Ministry business, the same as before” Harry said shrugging, pulling a plate of Yorkshire puddings towards him. “Managed to finally sort his Order of Merlin out is all, so – yeah, that’s that.”

“So if you helped him – what’s with the creepy looks he’s sending over” asked Ron sceptically. 

“I dunno” said Harry lamely with a glance at the staff table, “I mean he’s a creepy bloke.”

Ron looked up at Snape’s smug face and back at Harry with an unconvincing expression. “Oh he’s definitely creepy alright, but there’s something else, I can tell. That – look – doesn’t scream creepy. It’s more...” 

“Just leave it Ron!” interrupted Harry irritably. 

“I’m only saying!” Ron retorted, starting on his previously neglected mountain of food with more aggression then was strictly necessary. 

Hermione who had been quite throughout Ron’s outburst was looking knowingly up at Snape who had a sinking suspicion could read him like a book. 

Severus looked at the clock for what must have been the twentieth time in the last hour, putting down his quill in frustration and pushing his chair back form the desk. It was half past eleven and had seemed to have been so for the last three hours. He’d had a 4th year detention to see to after dinner which had taken up far less of his evening then he’d anticipated and was now trying to mark essays to pass the time. 

He was interrupted by a knock at the door, and thanking God for small mercy’s he got to his feet, pulling open the door only to be greeted by an empty corridor. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and trying his hardest to look annoyed but managing to look only slightly put out. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“You almost sound like you mean that Severus” answered Harry’s voice. 

Severus snorted, pushing back the door to let him in. 

“I couldn’t sleep, and anyway, you’re the Headmaster, you can do what you like” Harry said pulling off the cloak. 

“I’ll not be the Headmaster for much longer once the board get wind of this.”

“Oh well” said Harry happily, throwing himself uninvited onto Snape’s couch. “Never had you down as the Headmaster type anyway. Too much responsibility, too much expectation.”

“Right, of course, because I’ve never had to deal with any of that before have I, Mr Potter?“ answered Snape dryly. 

“Well of course you have, I didn’t mean that, I meant that you’d had quite enough of that already. Enough for a lifetime I’d wager.”

Snape hummed in agreement. “You’re probably right, as much as it pains me to admit it.” 

Harry laughed, kicking off his shoes and pulling his legs up onto the couch. “Of course I’m right Severus” Harry said, smiling in a way that had Snape pushing closed the door and crossing the room to prepare them both a drink. 

“Shall I take it from Mr Weasley’s attempt to turn me to stone over his dinner that he’s unhappy about you spending time in my presence?” Snape asked, handing him a glass of whisky and sitting down in the adjacent chair. 

“You could say that. He kept accusing you of sending creepy looks” said Harry with a snigger. “But don’t worry, I assured him you’re just a creepy kind of bloke.”

Snape snorted, “Charmed, I’m sure.” 

Harry took a swig of his drink. “Well I could of course have opted for the truth, that far from being creepy you were likely just undressing me with your eyes.”

Snape gasped theatrically “I was doing no such thing!”

Harry smiled, “No of course not, because that would be most inappropriate now wouldn’t it, sir.” 

“Shut up, Potter.”

“Make me.”

Snape stared at Harry, eyes dark and full of promise. He slowly put down his drink with a clink which rang suggestively in the silence, Harry, watching his movements with eager anticipation swallowed heavily at the implication. Then Snape pushed himself from his chair, his long elegant fingers pressing indents into the leather causing Harry to barely suppress a shiver. 

Any last signs of amusement were gone from Snape’s face as he crossed the few steps to where Harry sat looking up at him, a playful grin on his lips. He leant down, grasping a handful of Harry’s collar and tie between his long fingers and pulled him towards him, his lips hovering millimetres from his own. 

Harry spread his legs to allow Snape to slip between them, bringing up a hand and tracing a sharp cheek bone affectionately with his thumb. “Twice in one night Severus, why you old dog you.”

“Less of the old thank you very much, or you’ll be going back to your lonely cold bed in the Tower Potter” Snape growled, straddling Harry’s hips and pinning him back against the couch. 

“So what happened to playing it cool?” Harry asked, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Maybe – “ Snape drawled, loosening his grip on Harry’s shirt to slide his tie out from around his neck, “I’ve had quite enough of playing it cool. Perhaps – it’s time I threw caution to the wind, just took what I want.”

Harrys breath hitched as heat began pooling in his groin. “and what – do you want?”

Snape leant back on his knees to loop the tie around his hand, snapping it tight causing Harry to jump, his back arching off the couch of its own accord. “Why you of course Mr Potter, and I think this time – I would very much like to tie you up.”

“Y. You would?” Harry stuttered out. 

“I would.” 

  
And that was how Harry found himself some time later with his arms tied to Severus’ headboard whilst demonstrating a surprisingly extensive range of expletives.

“You’ve got a very filthy mouth Potter” Snape said with a groan, pausing in his ministrations to survey his handy work.

Harry was laid out naked before him like some virginal sacrifice, though no longer a virgin Severus thought smugly. His body was stretched taught, his muscles flexing uselessly against the bonds which held him. 

Severus took an unsteady breath, it was dizzying having this much power, especially over Harry Potter, the chosen one. A man with so much raw power it often radiated out of him without his knowledge, the man who brought Voldemort to his knees and vanquished him forever. 

Harry could have anyone he wanted, he was not only powerful, but strong, attractive and disgustingly wealthy. But for some inexplicable reason he was laid here flushed and panting and hard as a rock for him, all for him. 

Severus had seen Harry at his very best, in the battle field, commanding and confident, but also at his very worst, a side which Harry had only ever allowed him to see, a side he had kept locked away from even his closest of friends. Broken and weeping Severus had unknowingly pieced Harry back together bit by bit, until he hoped with time the cracks would become less visible and maybe even disappear all together. 

One thing he was certain of however was that ‘this’ was not a side his friends had ever seen, or were ever likely to. No, this was a side that had been reserved for Severus, and Severus alone. He looked down at Harry with a fondness he hadn’t know he was capable of, as he eyed Harry spread out on his bed, open and vulnerable, giving up all control for Severus to do with as he saw fit. 

He had little to no doubt that even without his wand he could break free of his bonds in seconds if he wished to, but they both knew that was not what he wanted, not what he needed. “If only the daily prophet were to get a hold of this” Snape whispered, running his fingers up the inside of Harry’s splayed legs. “Maybe you’d even make the centre – spread” Snape purred, firm hands pushing Harry’s legs further apart. “Lead astray; corrupted; taken advantage of by your depraved Potions Professor. Now what would you suppose the likes of Mr Weasley would have to say about that?” 

Harry let out a weak laugh that turned into a low pitched whine as Snape leant down to follow the path of his fingers with the tip of his tongue. Harry thankfully did not get to hear what Ron would say about this as Severus chose that moment to put his mouth to a much better use, which resulted in sufficient thrashing on Harry’s side meaning he would most certainly require some healing salve applying to his rubbed wrists before he was seen in public. 

The last thing Severus remembered thinking before his mind was rendered blissfully blank with the pleasure of being inside Harry’s perfectly willing body, was how on God’s earth, if heaven forbid this should come to an end, was he ever expected to give this up. He vowed in that moment that he would do everything in his power to keep this one thing for himself. 

For the second time in twenty four hours Harry woke up enveloped in Severus’ comforting presence. He lay still for a moment before even opening his eyes, just listening to the steady soft breaths and breathing in the familiar rich and earthy smell. Then he cracked open an eye and the shape of Severus’ head came into focus, blurry yet distinguishable upon the stark whiteness of the pillow beneath him. Extracting a hand carefully from beneath the covers he summoned his glasses and slid them on his nose, Snape’s face swimming into focus in front of him. 

This was a Severus Harry was unaccustomed to, all smooth skin, unguarded and peaceful, so different from the frowning anger of his day to day life. It felt – domesticated, laying here watching his – lover,(is that what they were now?) sleep. Watching the rise and fall of his chest and the flicker of his eyelashes on his pale cheeks. 

“Stop watching me” Snape grumbled, his eyes still firmly closed. 

Harry jumped, nearly over turning the bed side table in his haste. “I wasn’t” Harry said defensively, flopping onto his back and staring at the canopy of Severus’ bed. He waited a few seconds before allowing his gaze to drift back to Snape who barked at him again before opening his eyes. 

“Potter!”

Harry laughed and Snape thought he could very well get used to waking up to that noise every morning. 

Far sooner then either of them would have liked they were back in the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry, who had considered for a moment just pulling the covers over his head and staying in the dungeons was sat opposite Ron who had undoubtedly noticed Harry’s failure to return to the dormitory last night but seemed reluctant to mention it. You could cut the tension with a knife, Ron poking at his food, Hermione looking between the two of them with exasperation as Harry sat chewing on his thumb nail his eyes fixed on the rafters for a sign of this mornings post . 

“Mails here” said Hermione in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence. “Are you expecting something Harry?” 

“You could say that” Harry said weakly, watching as the hundreds of owls swarmed down the tables dropping rolled up papers into outstretched hands. He took a deep breath and with one last panicked look up at the staff table he waited. Hermione had always had a subscription so it would only be seconds until a copy was dropped in front of them. 

He stared down at the table as he heard the owl land next to the milk jug. He tried to take a drink but it got stuck in his throat and had to fight off a coughing fit as he listened to the rustle of Hermione untying the string. He waited a few more minutes, painfully aware of the silence then looked up to find them both staring at him, their mouths agape. Harry looked from their startled expressions to the newspaper spread out between them and Harry’s stomach dropped. It was worse then they’d expected, much, much worse. 

Blazing across the front in huge letters read the words “Snake in the lion’s den?” and underneath, blown up to epic proportions was a moving picture of Snape and Harry outside the Ministry, Harry’s hands fisted in Snape’s robes and Severus’ mouth on his. He’d expected them to run a story on Severus’ arrest and on Harry’s statement, but not this. They’d anticipated a few rumours would arise over Snape’s unusual protective behaviour but there was no talking their way out of this one that was for sure. 

Ron opened his mouth, made a strangled noise and then closed it again. Harry who had seemed to have forgotten how to breath was suddenly aware of the increase in volume around the Great Hall as more and more people unrolled their papers, accompanied by the rise of inquisitive heads popping up all over the Hall. One head in particular, blonde and shining was glaring accusingly at Harry and Snape who seemed to be taking some sort of personal offence at the revelation. 

The room went from the normal hubbub of breakfast, to deathly silence, to uproar in the space of 5 minutes. Harry, torn between fleeing the room and staying to read the article himself was looking pleadingly up at Snape, jaw set tight as Minerva whispered frantically in his ear. The entire student body watched on as Snape stood from his chair and made his way to the Gryffindor table, his head held high and with his usual commanding stride. He stopped behind Harry, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and eyeing Ron and Hermione in challenge. 

“Harry” Snape beckoned, and as Harry turned in his seat to look up at him he held out his hand and helped him climb from the bench, ignoring the noises of out rage from around them. Ron who looked torn between cursing Snape or vomiting was gripping the table with enough force that his knuckles had turned white and could do nothing but simply watch, eyes bulging as the two of them left the Great Hall. 

Severus, who it seemed had managed to acquire himself a copy of the prophet, waited until the two of them were safely ensconced in his quarters before extracting it from an inside pocket. “Shall we see if it gets any worse then?“ 

“I’m not sure how it possibly could” said Harry sitting down, “but yeah, sure, lets hear it then.” 

Snape shook out the paper, cleared his throat, then started to read. 

_“Snake in the lion’s den?” That is the question you, my lovely readers, are no doubt puzzling over after seeing the picture below, snapped by an inside reporter only yesterday. In this in-depth report we hear the story behind the wizarding worlds boy hero, Harry Potter, and ex death eater and Hogwarts headmaster, Severus Snape’s, shocking ‘relationship’._

_A departmental representative advised the Prophet that Mr Potter had secured Snape’s release earlier that day following his recent incarceration for the torture and mutilation of Nicholas Hitchin. Further enquires have unearthed the reasoning behind Snape’s actions as_ – “ Severus paused before continuing.” – _the acts of a jealous lover, following accusations made by Mr Potter – of attempted rape by Hitchin’s. These allegations seem to have been taken seriously by the Ministry, and after raising concerns for Mr Potters mental health after the war found it prudent to release Snape without charge. The investigation into the allegations made against Mr Hitchin are still on going and-_ “

Harry cut him off before he could continue. “Put it down Severus” Harry said, standing from the sofa to take the paper from his hands. “What’s done is done, I don’t think we really need to hear what else Skeeter has to say about us do we. People had to find out some time, and we knew that people weren’t going to be rolling out the red carpet for us anytime soon, so maybe it’s better this way, like pulling off a plaster.”

“But you don’t regret it?” asked Severus with an unordinary about of insecurity. 

“Not for a second, I’m just worried about you.”

“About me?” said Severus in surprise “why an earth are you worried about me?”

“You said it yourself. I’m still a student, You’re the headmaster. The board aren’t going to take kindly to you fraternizing with students no matter what the circumstances.”

“True, but don’t worry about that Harry. Like you said, I was never the headmaster type anyway. Maybe I’ll take a holiday.”

“ _You_? On holiday” Harry scoffed. 

“What do you find so amusing about that?” 

“Oh, I don’t know” said Harry “everything!”

“I could take a holiday.”

“Yeah you could, around the same time you devote your life to elf rights.”

Snape snorted, “I’ve done crazier things.”

“You’re just angry that Rita called you my _jealous lover_ ” said Harry with a smirk, taking Snape’s hands in his “But she wasn’t wrong, was she Severus?”

“No Harry“ said Severus, gathering Harry into his arms. “No she wasn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou as always for reading. One more chapter to go, think we are going to make it guys!


	20. Home at last

**\- - - - 8 years later - - - -**

“He’s coming up the path Harry” hissed Draco hurriedly, watching with amusement as Harry extinguished the cigarette he was smoking and attempted, somewhat ineffectively, to waft the remaining smoke out of the open kitchen window. 

“I don’t know why you’re still keeping it from him.” 

“He thinks I quit” said Harry, jumping to his feet as Severus opened the front door and came down the hall towards them. 

“Well you two couldn’t look more guilty if you tried” said Severus as way of greeting, looking between Harry and Draco who were standing to attention on either side of the table. “Have you been day drinking again?” 

“No!” said Harry defensively, holding his breath as Severus swept down for a kiss before crossing to the coat hook to hang up his cloak. 

Draco shook his head, “I still can’t get used to seeing the two of you do that” he muttered. 

“What, me kissing Potter or me kissing anyone in general?” asked Snape, eyebrow raised as he leant against the worktop. 

“More the fact that _your_ kissing Potter, and _willingly_.”

“Oi!” said Harry turning on Draco, “what’s wrong with kissing me, I distinctly remember you had no problems when _you_ were the one doing the kis – “

“I thought we’d agreed never to mention that!” Draco interrupted, his cheeks flushing. 

“Calm down, I’m only teasing” said Harry reaching over to flick on the kettle. “Coffee Severus? Malfoy?” 

“Not for me” said Draco taking his coat and scarf from the peg next to Severus’, “I’d best be off actually, I’m meeting some friends for a drink at six.”

“What friends?” said Harry narrowing his eyes at Draco. 

“Just some friends from work, why?” 

“You work with Severus Draco, and _only_ Severus, what friends?”

Just some people I met, whilst at work, you’re acting like my mother Potter” snapped Draco, suddenly cagey. 

“He’s got a date” said Severus smugly. 

Harry gasped, his face spreading into a grin. “He hasn’t..”

“Oh, he has” laughed Snape. 

Draco flushed again, suddenly finding his shoelaces very interesting. “Okay, maybe I do, not that it’s any of your business, I am allowed to have a life other then you two you know.” 

“We know” said Harry and Severus with identical grins. 

In the past three years Draco had been on only one date, his life as he had quite rightly said, started and ended with Harry and Snape. By day, he worked in the apothecary which he and Severus had opened seven years prior, and by night he was either alone in his flat or over at the house in which Harry and Severus shared. Severus had remained true to his word and had continued to look out for Draco, even after he was forced to resign from Hogwarts following the outing of Harry and his relationship. There had been public outrage, as they had very well expected there to be, but although they all thought Snape to be a most peculiar choice of partner for their saviour they had accepted it all the same. It seemed that what Harry Potter wanted, Harry potter got, and who were they to stand in his way.

After Severus’ resignation Harry had continued his studies and passes his Newts, going on to join the Aurors, where only four years into his career he had unsurprisingly been made head Auror, a job that Harry was extremely passionate about. Things between Harry and Draco had been tense, if not a little awkward at first, years of animosity could not so quickly be forgotten even if one did not dwell on their one time intimate encounter. But after leaving Hogwarts and attending regular therapy (Severus’ stipulation for them working together) Draco had changed, he was no longer the self entitled, pompous prat that Harry had once known and loathed and they had quickly become thick as thieves, much to Severus’ continued dismay. 

“Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t be happier without me cramping your style on the weekends” said Draco busying himself with his scarf.

“No, not at all, we enjoy having you around don’t we Severus?” 

“Oh yes,” drawled Snape “I’d always wondered what it would be like to have two children of my own, under my feet, constantly, and I finally got my wish didn’t I.”

“Funny” said Harry and Draco in unison. 

“So who is he?” asked Harry bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Why do you presume its a _he_.”

Severus looked at him pitifully “Oh please Draco, not this again, are you forgetting your subscription to – now what was that delightful magazine you had sent to she shop instead of the flat? “

“ _Up your alley_ ” said Harry with a snigger. 

Severus smiled widely at Draco “Of course it was.” 

“Alright, alright” said Draco, “it’s a he, but I can assure you that you do not know him and that’s all you’ll be getting from me.” 

Harry looked like he very much wanted to argue with Draco on the matter but decided against it. 

“You haven’t forgotten you’re opening up in the morning have you” asked Severus reaching into his pocket for the heavy bunch of keys and handing them over. 

“No I hadn’t forgotten, I won’t be back late don’t worry.” 

“Well I hope your date goes well Draco” said Severus sincerely. 

“Yeah” added Harry with a wide grin as he followed Draco to the front door. “I hope he’s – _right up your alley.”_

“Fuck off potter!” 

Laughing Harry waved him down the garden path.

“That was cruel” said Severus disapprovingly, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulders as they watched Draco disapparate at the garden gate. 

“He knows I’m only joking, it’s about time he got himself a fella, though I don’t envy the man that takes him on.” 

“What do you mean by that” said Severus frowning following Harry back into the kitchen. 

“Nothing like that, I love him like a brother Severus you know that, but he’s a very particular man, likes things a certain way doesn’t he. He’s never been the compromising type and I don’t think he ever will be.”

Severus considered this for a moment as Harry busied himself with their coffees. “That might be true Harry but as you and I have certainly proven, there’s some one out there for everyone, even cantankerous old fools like me.”

Harry scoffed, sitting down at the table across from Severus before smiling fondly up at him, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “Even cantankerous old fools like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have it. Its finished. Hope it wasn't too bad and that you enjoyed it. Yes the last chapter was short but I just wanted to bring it to an end so kept it short but sweet. I've loved writing this story and I'm really thankful for the lovely comments and Kudos that have kept me going along the way. Now the question is, what to write next?


End file.
